


Fall From Grace

by chains_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Angst, Boys in Chains, Drama, First Time, M/M, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:38:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Rushlight<br/>--<br/>Ben is kidnapped by slavers, and when he finally returns to Ray, both of them have to find a way to deal with the changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Initiation

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).  
> \--  
> Warnings: This story deals with some sensitive issues and contains a graphic depiction of rape. Caveat lector.   
> Acknowledgments: The idea for this story was prompted by a comment Jeannie Marie made on DSAD looong ago, so I'd like to thank her for the inspiration. I'd also like to thank Beth and Jennie for their usual crack beta job. And special thanks go to Beth for the discussion on plot ideas and characterization, as well for the help on researching various background details. Last but not least, thanks go to Ashinae, Frost, and Vixenrouge for advice in the romantic use of the Italian language. :)   
> Story Notes: Passing reference is made here to Detective Dewey from third and fourth season. No, that's not a typo. ;) In my happy little F/V universe Ray would never have left Chicago to go undercover, so I figure he would have been around long enough for Huey to get a new partner.   
> Feedback: Will be welcomed with open arms. :) I'm a little nervous about this one because of the content it deals with. Any comments, encouragement, critique, etc. will be endlessly appreciated.

Ben squinted against the dizzily revolving emergency lights that bled across the driveway in front of him, making sure he kept his head well below the level of the police vehicles that penned them away from the main house. Beside him, Ray wiped a palm against the front of his slacks, looking tense. 

From somewhere nearby, a radio headset crackled, and a tinny voice reported that the perimeter was secured. Glancing around, Ben felt his heartbeat quicken as the members of the SWAT team shifted into position, waiting for the order to move in. 

The house was registered as belonging to a Mr. Henry Duval, although it had recently been brought to the knowledge of the Chicago PD that aside from the name on the deed, Mr. Duval didn't in fact seem to exist at all. It had taken almost half a year's worth of investigation, but eventually the connection between the fictitious Mr. Duval and a local criminal named Harold Charles had been made. 

Charles had been a thorn in the side of the Chicago Police Department for as long as Ben had lived in the city. Therefore, it hadn't been much of a surprise that this newest information on the Duval house had been met with such enthusiasm. Charles was suspected of being involved in everything from illegal drug sales to money laundering to the local chapter of the underground white slave trade. 

It was this latest charge that had gotten them authorization from the mayor to go ahead with the raid. Somehow, somewhere, someone had dropped the insinuation that a shipment of newly procured "slaves" had just been dropped off at the house for distribution. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get them a warrant. The Chicago PD had been trying to shut Charles down for years, and now it looked like they were finally going to get their chance. 

The particular slave ring they'd been investigating operated as a sort of forced prostitution, which was an idea that made Ben's stomach turn. Bartering flesh as if it were just another form of currency... It was difficult to believe that human beings could be so callous, but he'd learned during his time in Chicago that anything was possible when it came to the criminal element. 

"Constable, I want you to stay here." The sound of Welsh's voice pulled Ben away from his musings. The lieutenant's gaze was unusually intent as he bent toward him. "You're just here to *observe*, so try to keep your head down, all right?" 

Ben nodded. "I'll do my best," he promised. He knew he wouldn't even have been allowed to be here if he hadn't done so much of the background work on this case with Ray. 

Welsh looked less than pleased with his answer, but then the captain of the SWAT team was calling for the advance. As usual, Ray was fairly vibrating with impatience to be in on the action, but he kept his head down beside Ben's while the initial assault on the house unfolded. 

It was all over much more quickly than Ben was anticipating. Before he knew what had happened, Charles was being led out of the house with his entourage of enforcers and financial experts in tow, looking none too happy with any of them. Ben watched with a curious feeling of detachment as the man was loaded into the back of a police cruiser for transport to the station. 

He remained outside until the SWAT team came back out, signaling that the interior of the house was clear. Ray had disappeared somewhere in the ensuing confusion, so Ben took the opportunity to slip inside, knowing that his experience with the details of the case would be useful in sifting through the evidence inside the house. 

The house was large and laid out in a series of open, interconnected rooms that looked like they belonged in an expensive southern villa. Apparently Mr. Charles had been fond of life's more material pleasures. Ben took in the scene around him with a curious air and dodged the tangle of uniformed officers that were pouring into the various dens and offices to search for files and other clues about Charles's financial network. 

Ben decided to leave them to it, and he angled toward the broad stairs sweeping up toward the second floor. It was quieter up here, since the investigation didn't seem to have progressed this far yet. He'd heard from one of the officers outside that this was where Charles had kept the young people he'd planned to sell. They had already been ushered outside to the waiting medical teams, but Ben assumed it would be quite a while before they forgot the horrors of this particular encounter. The thought made him uncomfortable, but he tried to ignore the feeling as he chose one of the open doors in the hall at random and stepped inside. 

The room was still and quiet, and Ben found his eyes moving to the unmade bed sitting tucked against the far wall between the tall windows. It was queen-sized, unobtrusive except for the metal eyelet hooks attached to either side of the thick wooden headboard. 

Ben was not naive. He knew what this room had been used for, what the young men and women they'd just rescued had been subjected to. Yet he felt his skin going numb at the thought of it, and he moved forward without really thinking about it, lifting one hand to touch the hook at the nearest side of the headboard. The metal felt cold under his fingers. 

To have so little control. Over himself, over the people around him. It was a nightmare he hoped he'd never have to live through. 

A soft creak of the floorboards behind him made him raise his head, schooling his face into a bland expression. Of course Ray would have come to check up on him. 

"Ray, I--" He turned, freezing when he saw the three figures standing just inside the entrance of the room. They were not dressed in the black Kevlar vests that he'd come to associate with the SWAT team members. Indeed, there was a subtle air about them that suggested they weren't police officers at all. 

"May I help you?" he asked, wondering why his heartbeat was suddenly racing. It had to be an empathetic reaction to being inside this room. Because there weren't any more of the criminals still loose inside the house. The SWAT team had *checked* for that, they'd *said* there were no more criminals running loose in here... 

"Yeah, I think maybe you can." The tallest of the three men stepped forward, making Ben tense slightly. The man's rangy form was dressed in a faded T-shirt and worn blue jeans, his hair dark auburn in the light streaming in through the windows. He was holding a small pistol in his left hand, and while his grip on it was loose, it was trained unerringly on Ben. 

The man's companions were fidgeting nervously. "C'mon, Brett, let's get out of here. This is *crazy*." 

Ben lifted his eyes from the gun to the man's face. Despite the nervousness of his companions, his eyes were calm. 

"No." Brett's gaze moved to the window briefly, and his tongue flickered out to moisten his lower lip, betraying his uneasiness. "We just lost everything. If we don't have something to show to Snow, we're out of business. He'll never agree to cover our costs while we recoup." 

Ben stayed tactfully silent and moved a half-step closer to the window, just to test the limits of Brett's attention span. Immediately, the hand on the gun tightened, and Brett's eyes narrowed as they moved back to focus on him. Ben froze instantly, knowing that Brett wouldn't hesitate to shoot him. These men literally had nothing left to lose. 

"There's no way out of here," Ben said, holding Brett's gaze. He kept his voice low, not wanting to startle him into a precipitous action. "The house is surrounded by police officers. If you turn yourselves in now, I can guarantee that you'll be fairly treated. There's no need for further violence." 

"Oh, I think there is." Brett's gaze slid down over Ben's form in a way that made Ben's heartbeat quicken yet again, and an oily fear twisted tight inside his stomach. The small smile on Brett's face made him even more uncomfortable than the gun did. 

A quick glance at the window showed him that the SWAT team was disbanding. Of course, they believed that they'd scoured the house effectively, and there was no further threat. Where had these men been hiding? It was entirely possible that there were hidden rooms, sealed off tight against the threat of just this kind of a situation. Why hadn't they thought of that? 

"Come on, Red." Brett's voice was tight. "Away from the window." 

Ben knew suddenly that he didn't want to go anywhere with these men. Wiping suddenly clammy palms against the front of his uniform tunic, he tried to think where Diefenbaker was. Last he'd seen him, he'd been sniffing around outside. Too far away to do him any good right now. 

"You'll never make it out of here," he said, trying for reason one last time. He thought about jumping for the window, but they were too high. And he knew instinctively that if Brett decided to shoot, he wouldn't miss. 

"Maybe not." Brett nodded at one of his companions, a slim, reedy-looking man with thin blond hair. The man hesitated and then moved forward, eyeing Ben warily. 

Ben tensed when he saw the blond man reach into his pocket, and he braced himself for a fight. His heart was *pounding* now, as he tried frantically to think of something to do. He couldn't allow himself to be used as a hostage. Ray would never forgive him if he let himself be put at risk that way. 

He held Brett's gaze steadily as the blond man advanced on him. That gun was his biggest worry, but once the blond man was close enough to him, there was a good chance Brett wouldn't risk shooting for fear of hitting his companion. 

Ben glanced over at the blond man, saw the hesitation there, but then there was movement on his other side as the third man moved in on him. He reacted reflexively, bracing himself for the half-expected retort of Brett's gun, but thankfully he refrained from shooting. Strong hands closed around Ben's arms, swinging him around, and he lashed out with a vicious uppercut to his assailant's jaw as the blond man moved in behind him. 

A sharp prick at the back of his neck made him flinch, and he turned around to see the blond man skittering away from him. Ben's vision was fuzzy, and he swayed, reaching for the headboard to steady himself as a wave of nausea rolled over him. 

Sudden comprehension made his heart leap up into his throat. He'd been drugged. Already, he could barely hear through the roaring of the pulse in his ears, and he turned to look at Brett again, fighting to see through the darkness that flickered at the edges of his vision. He sank down to his knees as his legs gave out, still leaning hard against the side of the bed. 

"Ray," he whispered, not sure if he'd said the word aloud. He could see Brett's face looming over him, eclipsing the rest of the room. 

Then he lost the battle against unconsciousness, and everything went dark. 

******** 

Ray watched as the SWAT van pulled away, feeling a measure of relief that the raid was finally over. His stomach was queasy from the sudden dearth of adrenaline in his system, and he rubbed at it absently as he leaned back against the hood of his car, wiping one hand across his eyes. 

There were only a few cops left on the property, detailing the crime scene. All of the hard work was done; now it was just minutiae, the unbearable tedium of bureaucracy. Every scrap of paper in the house had to be read through, every computer file had to be downloaded and meticulously combed for clues as to who the larger fish in this particular slave ring might have been. Despite his satisfaction at what they'd managed to accomplish today, Ray couldn't help feeling a twinge of depression. It was like battling a Hydra from Greek mythology; unless you cut out the heart, it would just grow another head somewhere down the line. 

Pretty damned useless, in his opinion, although he had to admit it did feel good to know there'd be that many fewer scumbags on the street tonight. Plus they'd managed to rescue about a dozen kidnap victims that were being held here, the youngest of which was fourteen. 

So, okay. They'd done good. Even if it wasn't as much as he'd have hoped for, it was something. More than something, to those dozen kids who'd be going home today instead of spending another night locked up in this place. 

A sudden movement across the lawn caught his eye, and he looked up, squinting slightly against the sun. Diefenbaker was nosing around the rosebushes at the side of the house, but he'd apparently had his attention snagged by something because he was looking up toward the upper floor windows now, standing frozen with one paw lifted up off the ground. 

Something in the wolf's posture struck Ray as vaguely disquieting. He leaned forward off of the car and took a step away from it, wondering just what his instincts were trying to tell him. He saw Dewey passing by on his way to the house and held up a hand to stop him. 

"Where's Benny?" he asked, without taking his gaze away from the house. 

Dewey glanced at him and shrugged. "Dunno. I think I saw him go inside a while ago." 

Ray relaxed slightly. That was okay, then. SWAT had been through the house with a fine-toothed comb, so he knew it was safe in there. Still, he couldn't bring himself to relax completely, and it looked like Dief wasn't relaxing, either. 

Dief suddenly uncoiled from his watchful pose a moment before Ray heard a shot ring out from the back of the house. He started moving immediately, watching as Dief ran hard across the grass, a lithe silver shadow that disappeared around the edge of the house before Ray even reached the center of the yard. 

Ray's heart was pounding. Another shot rang out, and there was shouting from somewhere, and he was still too damn far away to see what was going on. He forced himself to run faster, ignoring the growing ache in his chest, and skidded to a halt just as a car pulled out of the back drive with a squeal of tires, shooting a spray of cover fire out of a rear window as it went. 

What the hell was going on? Ray raised his gun reflexively and squeezed off a few shots, diving for cover behind the edge of the porch as one of the men in the car fired in his direction, bullets chipping the wall in a spray of hot splinters just inches away from his face. *Fuck*. 

He leaned forward and fired again, but the car was almost out of range now, angling down the shallow slope of the drive toward the street. Out of the corner of his eye, Ray saw that there was a uniformed officer lying on the front of the porch, dark red spreading fast across the white-painted wood of the floor beneath him. 

Damn it, damn it, damn it. Ray tightened his grip on his gun as he ran up the porch steps, staying low in case there were any more gunmen lying in wait somewhere. Behind him, he could hear Dewey's voice calling in for assistance, tight with shock as he let the operator know there was an officer down. 

Ray stripped off his jacket without thinking and pressed it hard to the wound he saw in the side of the downed officer's chest, feeling relieved at the low grunt of pain it caused. Pain was good, it meant the guy was still alive. 

"Hang in there," he said, looking over his shoulder, and his heart leaped up into his throat when he saw the silver-furred shape lying prone against the grass at the edge of the driveway. 

Oh, no. Oh god, no. 

"Dewey!" he said, hearing the frantic edge in his voice and not caring. Dewey followed his gaze and nodded. 

"I got it," he said, and Ray watched as he jogged out to Diefenbaker's side, shrugging out of his jacket as he went. 

There were more officers around them now, pouring out of the house, and Ray looked up at them with wide eyes, trying to will Benny into existence. But Benny didn't appear, and he felt the sick sense of fear in his stomach deepen. 

Finally, the ambulance arrived, along with more units from the city. Ray gratefully moved out of the way so the paramedics could do their job, and he wiped one blood-smeared hand across his brow as he turned back to look for Diefenbaker. Dewey had covered the wolf with his jacket and was even now lifting him up off the ground, shouting orders to the cops around him. Huey appeared at his side to help clear the way, and Ray knew that between the two of them, they'd manage to get Dief to a hospital. 

Which was good, but it didn't calm the roiling fear in his gut. He pushed his way inside the house, ignoring the surge of confusion around him, and made a quick circuit of the lower rooms. Benny was nowhere to be seen, and he moved toward the stairs with grim determination, almost afraid to think what he'd find when he got upstairs. 

"The Mountie," he said to the officers he passed by, and got only blank looks in return. "Has anyone seen the Mountie?" 

He was nearly vibrating with nervous energy by the time he got upstairs, and he looked around sharply, wondering where to start looking. It was quieter here, but he could still hear the subdued murmur of voices downstairs. He thought suddenly of Benny lying hurt and bleeding in one of these rooms and felt something inside him snap. He called Benny's name hoarsely as he searched through the bedrooms, desperate to find him, to help him, to do *something*. 

But Benny wasn't in any of the bedrooms. His hat was lying overturned on one of the beds, but that was the only sign of him. Ray heard footsteps in the hall and turned to see Welsh coming toward him from the stairs. 

"Did you see Benny outside?" he asked tightly, wondering if maybe Dewey had been wrong. Maybe Benny hadn't been inside after all. 

Welsh shook his head. "I don't know. It's a madhouse out there." He looked tired, strained, as if he'd been trying to live for too long on too much caffeine and too little sleep. Which, as Ray knew, he had been. 

"Well, what the hell happened? Where did those guys come from?" Ray was still riding the high from the shootout, rubbing his hands against his thighs, trying to calm the rapid flutter in his gut. He stalked over to the window and looked outside. The yard looked so peaceful from here. Picturesque. 

"That's what we're trying to find out. Apparently there's a back stairway leading down to the rear foyer, so if they were hiding up here, that's probably how they managed to make it downstairs without running into anyone." There were more cops coming upstairs, spreading out to search now that the excitement was over. Ray watched them with a feeling of detachment, unable to calm the feeling of anxiety that twisted through him. 

This time, their search turned up a fake wall behind one of the bookshelves in the master bedroom. It opened into a cramped alcove that looked more than capable of serving as a hiding place while the place was being raided. 

"I didn't see how many people were in the car," Ray said, turning away from the alcove with a scowl. "But there couldn't be more than three or four guys that could've fit in there." 

Welsh nodded, agreeing with his assessment. "We've got an APB out on the car, but so far highway patrol hasn't turned up anything." 

Ray nodded. "And Benny?" he asked, stepping up to the window and staring hard down at the ground below. 

There was a pause before Welsh answered. "No one's seen him since the shooting. No one knows where he is." 

The words settled like a block of ice deep in Ray's stomach, and he closed his eyes for a moment, reaching out to the windowsill to steady himself. 

"They took him," he said after a moment. He was amazed at how even his voice sounded. 

Welsh hesitated before replying. "That's a definite possibility," he said reluctantly. 

Ray leaned his forehead forward against the window and let his breath out in a long sigh. "Benny," he said, feeling a sudden pain lance deep inside of him. He felt nauseous. 

"We'll find him, Vecchio," Welsh said, and despite the usual gruffness of his voice, there was an underlying compassion to it. 

Ray smiled grimly. "Damn right we will." It took a moment for him to get himself together again, but then he turned away from the window and made his way back into the hall. *I'll find you, Benny,* he promised silently, hoping that somewhere, somehow, Benny would be able to hear him. 

He'd find him, or he'd die trying. 

******** 

The first thing Ben noticed was that he was lying on something soft. He concentrated on breathing for a moment, trying to process this new sensory information as consciousness slowly returned to him. He ached in about a hundred places, and there was a sharp, faintly bitter aftertaste in the back of his throat. His mouth felt as if it had been stuffed full of cotton. 

The second thing he noticed was that his arms were restrained behind his back. He flexed his fingers gingerly, wincing as feeling slowly returned to them, and rolled onto his stomach to ease the pressure on his arm. Rather securely restrained, he noted absently, with something that was cutting uncomfortably into the bones of his wrists. 

He was also gagged. That was an unpleasant realization, and he took a moment to explore this new sensation, pressing with his tongue against the damp cloth that filled his mouth. The corners of his lips felt chapped, as if they'd been rubbed raw by the fabric that bound him, and he could feel the knot pressing hard against the back of his head. 

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice said from somewhere above him. "Sleeping beauty awakes." 

Calming the reflexive flutter of fear that shivered through him, Ben peeled open his eyelids. Light stabbed into his eyes, and he closed them again immediately, stifling a low groan. 

Someone nearby chuckled deeply, and he tried to focus on where the sound was coming from. Despite his efforts to keep himself calm, his heartbeat was quickening, and his body twitched under the sudden flood of adrenaline that coursed through it. 

He remembered now. The raid. The three men. 

He'd been kidnapped. 

He couldn't even begin to imagine how they'd managed to get him out of the house, and he hoped desperately that no one had been killed in the process. From what he'd seen of Brett, he guessed that he wouldn't see killing police officers as an unacceptable means of accomplishing his goals. 

There was a low creak as footsteps moved over the floorboards somewhere nearby, and Ben flinched reflexively. He tried opening his eyes again, keeping them closed to narrow slits, and this time, the light was painful but bearable. It took a moment for his vision to focus, but then he could see clearly again. 

He was in a small wooden room, lying on a bare mattress that was tucked onto one corner of the floor. An open door led out into what looked like a narrow hallway, and a single window let in streams of slanting sunlight above him. 

Brett was here, sitting in a folding metal chair at the far side of the room. He was smoking a cigarette, and he blew a thin cloud of smoke toward the ceiling as he watched Ben wake up. 

Ben shivered under that narrow gaze and turned to look at the door. The blond-haired man was here as well, pacing agitatedly just inside the room. He looked nervous, which Ben was beginning to think was a perpetual state for him. The thought was not comforting. 

Not knowing what else to do, he lay quietly while Brett finished his cigarette. Looking up at the window, he thought he saw the edges of dark pine branches outlined against the glass. Where were they? In the woods somewhere? Was this a cabin? A safehouse of some sort? It occurred to him suddenly that he didn't even know what state he was in anymore. 

He worked on keeping his breathing even as he waited. He couldn't remember ever being this frightened before, but panic was not going to help him. He had to stay in control, of himself if not of the situation. 

"I still think this is a bad idea." Apparently, Ben had woken up into the middle of an ongoing conversation. The blond-haired man was still pacing, tracing nervous gestures in the air with his hands. "I mean, look at him. He's a *Mountie*, for Christ's sake." 

"Yeah, I know." Brett sounded amused. A moment later, his voice sharpened. "Get a hold of yourself, Andrew. Joel'll be back any minute with the food, and we'll all sit down to a nice, calm supper before we ... discuss things." 

The pause was barely noticeable, but Ben tensed as Brett's gaze moved to him again. There was something in the way Brett was looking at him that made his skin crawl. 

"Whatever, man." The blond man -- Andrew? -- still didn't look happy. He walked over to the window and looked outside. "I just don't want to deal with the heat that this's going to bring down on us." 

"Relax." Ben tensed warily when Brett finally snubbed out his cigarette and stood up, but he relaxed again when he didn't make a move toward him. There was a sudden sound of a car engine somewhere outside, and Brett glanced at the window. "See? He's back already." 

They both left the room then, still arguing, and Ben immediately rolled up into a sitting position, looking frantically around for something to cut through his bonds. He was still dizzy from whatever drug they'd given him, but he ignored the residual nausea churning in his stomach and pulled at the bindings on his wrists. The room was bare except for the mattress he was sitting on and a couple of folding chairs against the far wall. Apparently Brett and his gang weren't very big on furnishings. 

He nudged at his ankle with the side of one foot, but the knife he carried inside his boot was missing. Damn it. His hat was gone, too, which meant he couldn't get to the sharpened buckle on the front of it. His mind raced, but he couldn't think of anything else that he might be able to use to free himself. 

There were voices in the hallway outside the room now, and the floorboards were creaking again. Feeling a sudden spike in his heartbeat, Ben lay back down against the mattress, figuring that if nothing else, he could at least play sick until one of his captors let his guard down. 

Brett was the first one to come into the room again, and he was closely followed by Andrew and the third man that Ben recognized from earlier. Joel, he guessed. He kept his eyes half-lidded as he watched them, trying to appear as weakened and harmless as he possibly could. Not that that was such a stretch, under the circumstances. 

The rich smells of Chinese food filled his nostrils, making his stomach cramp painfully. He was famished, but he knew instinctively that he wouldn't be able to keep anything down until the drug was completely out of his system. Even the thought of eating made him feel queasy. 

Fortunately, none of his captors seemed inclined to offer him any of their food. Andrew dragged in a folding card table and set it up next to the chairs, and Brett and Joel set the steaming cartons down. Apparently Brett wanted to keep a close eye on him while they were eating. 

Joel and Andrew regarded him warily as they sat down to eat, but Brett ignored him. Ben tried to listen to their conversation without *looking* like he was, but they only made passing reference to circumvented roadblocks and search parties, and the fact that they were planning on hitting the highway in the morning. 

All very vague and unilluminating, even if he did somehow miraculously manage to free himself. If nothing else, it seemed clear that they'd managed to evade the policemen at the Duval house, as well as whatever pursuit there had been against them. 

Finally, the impromptu dinner wound down, and Brett turned to look at Ben again. The light outside the window was fading fast, and thick shadows flocked at the corners of the room. Ben tried to hold himself very still, hoping that maybe they'd think he was asleep and leave him alone for a while, but then Brett stood up slowly and turned toward him. 

"What do you think, Joel?" Brett asked. There was an underlying hoarseness to his voice that Ben couldn't remember hearing before. 

The third man at the table nodded, and he grinned. "Yeah. He'll bring in a pretty penny, that's for sure." 

Andrew still looked nervous, but he didn't say anything as Brett took a step closer to the corner of the room where Ben lay. Ben tensed, feeling a sudden fear grip him. He forced his breathing to remain even, in and out, over and over again. 

"Pretty thing, isn't he?" Brett's voice had gone soft, and the muscles in Ben's stomach tightened as he watched him come closer. Joel had stood up and was moving in behind him. His eyes were bright in the fading glow from the window, dark beneath the ragged thatch of his hair. 

Ben couldn't help drawing back as Brett crouched down beside him. His heartbeat was a dull thunder in his ears, making him dizzy, and he bit down reflexively against the gag in his mouth, wishing he could talk. Talking his way out of untenable situations was something he was good at, but that option had been stripped away from him as well. Pieces of what Brett had said were floating around in the back of his mind, and he deliberately tried to ignore them, refusing to think about what Brett might want from him. 

Brett reached out to touch the side of his face, and Ben jerked away, glaring up at him. He drew his knees up toward his stomach, getting ready to lash out if Brett tried to touch him again. His heart was *pounding* now, it was roaring, and he could barely breathe through the fear that gripped him. 

A hand on his leg made him jump, and he twisted around to see that Joel had come up beside the mattress as well. Ben tried to move his leg away, but the grip on his ankle was suddenly painfully tight, two hands holding his feet down hard against the mattress as he writhed to get away from them. 

He was on his stomach now, and the position made him feel achingly vulnerable. He saw Brett reaching for him again and tried to roll away, tensing his legs to kick out at the hands that held him, but now there were hands on his shoulders as well, pushing him down. 

"Fuck." Joel's voice, thick with strain as he fought to hold him. Ben felt fingers twine in the hair at the back of his head, pressing his face against the mattress, and he struggled to breathe, blinking back tears as the pain of the grip spiked through him. A sharp blow landed in the back of his ribs, and he grunted, flinching away as hands scrabbled at his waist, trying to contain his wild struggles. 

There was a weight on the backs of his thighs now, thick and heavy against him, and he bucked madly against it, keening into the gag that filled his mouth. He was panicking now, he knew he was panicking, but he couldn't control himself, couldn't do anything but twist and fight against the hands that held him. Another blow landed on his kidney, knocking the breath out of him, and it disoriented him enough where he almost didn't feel the hands peeling away the belt around his waist. 

A sudden rush of cold air made him aware of the fact that his pants were being pulled down, and he screamed, the sound emerging as little more than a muffled whimper through the gag. There were hands on his skin now, touching him, stroking him, and he pressed his hips hard against the mattress, trying to get away from them. Heat roared underneath the surface of his skin, making his skin prickle, making him hurt even where there were no hands on him. 

He tried to press his thighs together, but the bruising grip moved to his knees, pulling his legs apart. Oh god, this couldn't be happening, couldn't be happening, couldn't be real. Ben bucked against them, trying to unseat the weight that sprawled on top of him, but it was no use. He felt dizzy, nauseous, weakened from the drug that still circulated sluggishly through his system. He felt hard teeth biting into the back of his neck, hard enough to bruise, and he twisted his head away, trying to slam his head back against the shape he sensed hovering above him. 

Brett's low chuckle was breathless against his ear, and Ben turned away from it, blinking back tears. "Pretty Mountie boy," Brett whispered to him, and a hand slid lasciviously up his side, burrowing underneath his tunic. Ben shuddered, feeling himself start to go numb, feeling his mind begin carrying him off to a place where he wouldn't have to feel this, wouldn't have to live through this. His eyes were wide and unseeing as they stared across the darkened room. 

The sudden pain that tore through him when Brett thrust into him made him cry out sharply, biting down hard on the gag. *Oh god,* his mind chanted over and over, numb from the thought of what was happening to him. *Oh god, oh god, oh god...* 

The pain shot up his spine straight to the base of his skull, making him moan and writhe as Brett fucked him. Despite his efforts to close himself away from what was happening, he couldn't help feeling it, living it, being aware of every sharp thrust inside him. Brett was grunting against his ear now, low and rhythmic, and there were hands digging painfully into his upper arms, holding him down against the mattress. Ben squeezed his eyes shut, willing it all to go away. 

Brett suddenly tensed above him, and Ben's eyes closed even more tightly as he heard the man's pleasured groan vibrate through him. Brett's hands tightened spasmodically around his arms, and after an endless moment, he collapsed bonelessly against Ben's back, breathing out hard against the back of his neck. 

"Fuck," he said with a sigh, nipping lightly at the side of Ben's jaw. He gave a breathless laugh when Ben jerked away from him, still not opening his eyes. "You're the sweetest ass I've ever had." 

Ben flinched away from the words, feeling his thoughts crash together like a derailed train inside his head. He shuddered as Brett pulled out of him, and the steady ache pulsing in his lower back flared for a moment, causing a strangled sound to force its way up from his throat. 

He felt numb now, lost, as if he were falling through a dense fog without any idea of which way was up. The physical pain he felt was secondary, and he couldn't stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He deliberately did not react when smooth fingers traced across his cheek, wiping them away. 

"Damn." Joel's voice now, low against his ear. "We're going to make a fortune on this one, Brett." 

Then a new weight settled down across the backs of his thighs, and Ben's eyes flew open with an aborted cry as he realized that Joel was leaning down on top of him. He tried to twist away, suddenly energized again, but there were hands on his ankles, refusing to let him move away. 

The sharp thrust was even more painful this time, and he keened low in his throat, arching his hips up off the mattress as the sensations arced through him. Joel was panting hard in his ear, muttering short, broken phrases about how good he was, how sweet he was, calling him words like "slut" and "bitch" and "whore". 

He was finished a lot quicker that Brett had been, or maybe it just seemed that way. Ben kept his eyes closed as Joel pulled away from him, concentrating on the pain that shuddered through him. Pain was good, he could deal with pain, especially if it meant he didn't have to think about what had just happened. 

Then there was another shuffling of movement, and his eyes slitted open as a third body moved into position over him. He'd been hoping that Andrew, at least, might not be willing to assault him this way, but it seemed that even Andrew's inherent nervousness about his presence here couldn't keep him from wanting a piece of the spoils. The thought made Ben choke on a sudden surge of dark laughter, and he closed his eyes again, allowing the dizziness he felt to move through him in a liquid wave. It was the lingering effects of the drug, he supposed, or else it was just shock. Either way, he welcomed it. 

It was almost easy this time, if he ignored the pain. He allowed himself to drift, focusing on mundane images of his days at the Consulate, then memories of his daily patrols in the Yukon, so long ago it seemed. He was more successful this time in mentally removing himself from the rape, and he didn't even notice that Andrew had finished with him until he felt the heavy warmth against his back move away. 

There was a low murmur of voices around him, disembodied in the darkness of the room. Ben let his eyes drift shut again, and he didn't react as he heard them move away from him, bantering back and forth with what sounded like a heady dose of good humor. He could feel a slick heat trickling down between his legs, but whether it was semen or blood, he couldn't be certain. It occurred to him then that all three of his assailants had used some kind of lubricant to ease their entry during the rape, which he supposed should count as a small blessing. They didn't want to damage the merchandise, he supposed. 

He couldn't muster the energy for another laugh, which he figured was good since the joke wasn't really all that funny. The air inside the cabin felt cold against his bare skin, but it wasn't enough to keep him from falling prey to the wave of exhaustion that crashed over him. 

A moment later -- blissfully, thankfully -- he fell asleep. 

******** 

They left him alone till morning. The sun was just beginning to make its way in through the window when Ben felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. He jerked back reflexively as the memories of the previous evening poured over him, and he opened his eyes to see Andrew bending over him. 

"Up and at 'em," Andrew told him. His eyes were unexpectedly mild. "There's breakfast, if you hurry." 

Ben's stomach growled at that, and he took a moment to assess his condition. His pants were still bunched up around his ankles, and he felt his face go warm at that realization. However, his mind felt relatively clear, and the acrid taste in the back of his throat was gone. Apparently he'd slept off the last effects of the sedative they'd given him. 

He realized Andrew was waiting for an answer, and he nodded slowly. There was still a dull pain burning deep inside the small of his back, reminding him unnecessarily of what had happened last night. But it wasn't sharp, and it didn't increase when he moved. That had to be a good sign. 

Andrew helped him stand, and as unpleasant as it was to be touched by this man, Ben was grateful for the assistance. He'd lost all feeling in his arms long ago, and he wasn't sure he would have made it on his own. He could hear voices outside, which he assumed belonged to Brett and Joel. 

He swayed for a moment, feeling dizzy again, but then he stood still while Andrew removed his gag. For a moment he just sucked in air gratefully, glad to be rid of the thing. 

"Better?" Andrew asked him, and he nodded. His mouth was so dry he didn't think he'd be able to form any words, even if he tried. 

Then Andrew was kneeling down to pull up his pants, and Ben flushed hotly, turning his face away. He didn't look as Andrew's thin hands fastened the pants in front of him, fingers cool against the skin of his waist. 

"Relax." Andrew's tone was wry. His hand moved to Ben's arm again, and he guided him to the table, where he carefully helped him sit down in one of the chairs there. Ben winced, but managed to sit without too much difficulty. 

Breakfast consisted of bottled water and oatmeal, which smelled sickly sweet from sugar and tasted like it had come from one of those instant microwaveable packets. Ben devoured it all as Andrew fed it to him, though, and felt as if he'd never tasted anything more satisfying. He hadn't realized how truly hungry he was until he'd started to eat. 

Feeling somewhat better, he watched as Andrew gathered up the dishes. "Where are we going?" he asked, having to clear his throat three times before his voice would work. 

Andrew glanced at him, looking startled. "West," was all he said. "You'll see." He dropped his gaze again as he shoveled the remains of Ben's meal into a plastic bag. 

Ben's heart was pounding again. Where were they taking him? Far away, it seemed, and for a moment he gave in to the despair that Ray would never be able to find him. Because Ray was looking for him; of that he had no doubt. 

"For what purpose?" he asked, thinking that if he could just keep Andrew talking, he might be able to learn something that would help him. 

But Andrew only smiled, reaching for his arm again to help him to his feet. "I wouldn't worry about it just yet. Just keep your head down and try not to make too many waves, all right? Things'll go a lot easier for you that way." 

It was sound advice, Ben had to admit. The last thing he wanted to do was draw Brett's attention. 

There was a certain surreality in being handled with such gentleness by a man who had been his rapist. Ben's thoughts skittered away from that thought as he followed Andrew out into the hall. The short passage opened up into a broad room that was decorated only slightly more than the room where he'd been kept. 

"Do you need to use the bathroom before we go?" 

Once again, Ben felt his cheeks grow warm. But he nodded dumbly, keeping his gaze on the floor. He couldn't count on being asked again any time soon, and he couldn't bear the indignity that might come if he didn't take advantage of the offer. 

The bathroom was a small alcove off to one side of the main room. It was almost physically painful to have Andrew undress him again, but Ben allowed it reluctantly, knowing that he wouldn't be able to manage on his own. Not with his hands tied behind his back. Maybe, if he showed signs of being cooperative, they'd let down their guard and untie him eventually. 

Andrew held the front door open for him as they went outside, and Ben blinked in the rising sunlight, looking around to get his bearings. The cabin was surrounded by a copse of dark pine trees, blue spruce if he wasn't mistaken. A rough gravel driveway led away under their heavy branches, disappearing around a bend some distance away. 

Brett and Joel were loading bags into the trunk of the car. It was a dark green SUV, which Ben couldn't remember seeing at the Duval house. Whatever vehicle they'd used to make their escape, they had apparently left it behind in favor of this new one. A clever move, he had to admit, and he mentally lowered his expectations of being rescued. Apparently, Brett knew what he was doing. 

Thankfully, he was ignored as Andrew moved forward to help load the car. He was left standing on the porch, so even if he thought his legs could carry him, he'd have to get by all three of his captors before reaching the woods. 

For one desperate moment, he almost considered it. 

But then Andrew was moving toward him again, reaching out to guide him toward the car. Ben hesitated before he followed, feeling a sudden fear slither through him. Wherever they were going, he didn't think he'd be enjoying himself once they got there. 

"Come on," Andrew said, speaking under his breath. His fingers were tight around Ben's upper arm. "You really don't want to start anything. Trust me." 

Ben hesitated a moment longer. Even through the thickness of his serge, Andrew's fingers felt hot against him. He ached suddenly, deep inside his chest, and he struggled to breathe through the sudden panic that gripped him. 

He couldn't go with them, not even if they threatened to kill him. He. Could. Not. 

Brett looked up from where he stood by the side of the SUV, looking irritated. "Come on," he said sharply, apparently speaking to Andrew. "We were supposed to be on the road half an hour ago." 

Andrew's fingers tugged at his arm, but Ben couldn't make himself move. It hurt to breathe, like acid churning deep inside his lungs, and he leaned away from Andrew's touch on his arm, wishing he had the strength to do more. 

"For God's sake." Brett slammed the car door shut and stalked toward them. Ben watched him come closer and took a hesitant step back, barely noticing as Andrew let go of his arm to fish around in the pocket of his jeans. 

"Never mind. I got it." Andrew's voice sounded far away, and Ben barely heard him as Brett came up the steps. There was a sudden prick against the back of his hand, and he turned to look at Andrew in surprise. 

"Sorry, pal." Andrew sounded honestly apologetic. 

Oh dear god, not again. Ben felt the hard planks of the porch turn liquid under his feet, and he swayed unsteadily, feeling the familiar roaring darkness move in around him. He felt arms close around him, holding him up, and while he wanted to move away from them he only sank further into their embrace. 

A moment later, everything went black. 

******** 

He woke up some time later to find himself lying on another soft surface. This time, he wasn't quite so eager to open his eyes, although he did notice that his hands seemed to be unbound. And he wasn't gagged this time, which was a definite improvement. 

Warily, he opened one eye. For a moment he felt panicked when he couldn't see anything, thinking that maybe the drug they'd given him had blinded him this time around, but then his vision began to resolve the outlines of several low shapes in the room around him. 

It was night. Opening both eyes, he found himself staring at a wide picture window overlooking a shadowed back yard. Silver shadows hugged the grass, giving the scene a surreal aspect, as if he were looking at a scene in a child's storybook. 

The leaves of the tall tree outside the window shivered in the breeze. Not a pine tree like before. An oak, maybe. It was hard to tell in the darkness. 

He appeared to be lying on a couch. Trying to ignore the steady pounding behind his eyes, he lifted his head to get a better look around. There were noises coming from the room behind him, too low to be distinguishable, and when he turned to look in that direction, he saw a thin line of yellow light spilling out from underneath the closed door. 

The room he was in was large and expensively decorated. Tall bookshelves lined one wall, filled with several rows of thick, hardbound books. The carpet that covered the floor looked deep, judging by the imprint that the furniture was leaving in it. There was a small fireplace in the wall beside him, covered by a thin mesh grill. The paintings on the walls were tasteful. 

Now that his eyes were adjusting, even the thin silver moonlight that filled the room seemed uncomfortably bright. He squinted against it and rubbed his fingers over his eyes, feeling grateful for the opportunity to move as he saw fit. Although he supposed it should be disturbing him that his captors didn't feel the need to restrain him any longer. 

The thought of Brett and his minions made him feel suddenly cold, and he pushed himself up on one arm, ignoring the sudden rush of dizziness that fell over him. His stomach was twisting like a pit of snakes, but he knew from experience now that the nausea wouldn't last long. 

So where was he, then? Very carefully, he sat up and looked around. His red uniform tunic was missing, as were his boots. He was dressed only in his jodhpurs and white Henley. The thought that someone must have undressed him while he was unconscious made his skin crawl. 

Deliberately, he curtailed that thought and turned his attention to the room around him. He looked instinctively for something to use as a weapon, but the room appeared to have been meticulously stripped bare of anything that might serve that purpose. Unless he wanted to climb up on top of the mantle to pull down one of the paintings, there wasn't anything around him that he could use to defend himself with. And he didn't have high hopes for his ability to make it off the couch with his balance intact, much less anywhere else. 

It was frustrating to feel so helpless. Frustrating to think he could be ... used ... in that way. In the darkness, Ben felt his cheeks burn, and he shifted uncomfortably, feeling the residual ache between his legs that the memory brought to his attention. 

Weak as a day-old kitten. Sudden fury burned in him, but he just let his head fall against the back of the couch, willing his body to work out the last traces of that damned sedative. If he could get his strength back, that meant he could fight. There was no way he could let them do that to him again. 

It was almost funny, how quickly his priorities in life had changed. Not that he really knew how long it had been since he'd been kidnapped, but he guessed it hadn't been all that long. It was likely just a couple of days ago that he'd been working cases for the 27th, trying to keep his relationship with Ray professional, wondering if the attraction he felt toward Ray was something that might be worth risking the friendship they'd carved out together over the past couple of years. That was indeed the problem that had consumed the majority of his time, which seemed kind of ironic, really, when he considered the fact that right now the only thing on his mind was the cold certainty that he really did not want to be fucked again. 

Such a crude word, but there really wasn't another to describe what Brett had done to him. It would have been different with Ray, he was sure. So very different with Ray. Ray would have touched him with love, would have been gentle. There would have been no shame involved. Would there have been pain? If so, it would have been minimal. He knew that much. Ray would never willingly hurt him, and he had such gentle hands. 

He realized that his thoughts were drifting, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about it. He was still fighting through the fog in his brain when he heard the door to the room open. 

He tensed immediately, feeling a reflexive tightening in his chest as he twisted around to see who was coming. He felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw it was Brett. 

"He's awake," Brett called over his shoulder as he stepped into the room. He moved around to the front of the couch and stood looking down at Ben with a small smile. 

Ben stared up at him with what he hoped was a bland expression. It wouldn't do at all if even half the fear he felt in this man's presence was showing on his face. 

"It's been fun, Red, but we'll be leaving tonight. I hope you enjoy your new home." Ben tried to make sense of the words, fighting through the drug-induced fog in his brain as Brett leaned down over him. Brett brushed a thumb across Ben's lower lip and smiled again, while Ben met his gaze stonily, refusing to pull away. "I'm just sorry I never had the chance to fuck this pretty mouth of yours." 

The casual statement made Ben angry, and he found himself wishing that Brett *would* try to stick something between his teeth right then. The viciousness of the thought startled him, and his stomach churned in protest against it. 

There was more movement at the entrance to the room now, and Brett looked up over the back of the couch, straightening. "He's all yours, Mr. Snow." There was a subtle change in his voice now, an increased note of respect that gave Ben pause. "Good luck with him." 

He glanced down at Ben one more time before turning to leave. Ben watched him go with a curiously hollow feeling, not sure if he should be feeling relieved or terrified at this new development. 

There was more shuffling movement at the doorway behind him, but he deliberately didn't turn. Finally, the movement quieted, and a thick silence fell over the room. A shadow moved at the edge of his vision, and he closed his eyes with a short sigh. 

"You don't have to be afraid." 

This new voice was unexpectedly mild. Low and masculine, it made his heartbeat quicken. Ben tensed again as the couch dipped beside him, telling him that someone had just sat down on the cushion next to him. 

He concentrated on his breathing again, in and out. In and out. There was no real question in his mind what he had been brought here for. He knew what business Brett and his associates were involved in, and his remarks about Ben earning him a tidy profit had been all too revealing. 

A low chuckle beside him drew his attention again. "They really hit you up hard, didn't they? You must have given them quite a bit of trouble." 

A hand against his face then, turning his head into the light falling through the window. Ben's brows drew together at the unwanted contact, but he couldn't quite find the strength to protest. The dreamy lassitude that enveloped him was almost comforting. 

Another low chuckle, almost inaudible. "Brett can be a bit of a hardass, but he did good this time. You really are quite amazing." 

Ben bristled under the casual compliment, and he forced his eyes open. It took more effort than he thought it would, but finally he got his vision to focus. 

There was a man sitting on the couch next to him, gazing at him with a bemused expression. He looked just slightly older than Ben himself, with short brown hair and unusually piercing dark eyes. Handsome, if he'd allow himself to notice such a thing. Confident, most definitely. As well he should be, Ben supposed, considering the circumstances. 

"Who are you?" he managed, licking his tongue over his lips to moisten them. 

He saw the man's gaze follow the path of his tongue and quickly pressed his lips together, feeling his face grow warm again. 

"My name is Chris Snow." The name jogged something in Ben's memory, but he couldn't think what it was right then. If only he could force his thoughts into some kind of order... "What's your name?" 

Ben stared at him, wondering if it would be worth it not to answer. But it was really an innocuous question, and he had no desire to anger this man. Not when he was feeling so damnably helpless. "Ben," he answered, hoping that would be enough to satisfy him. 

Apparently, it was. "That's a fine name." Snow was smiling. "It suits you." 

Ben continued to stare at him, feeling as if he was being devoured by that dark-eyed gaze. Snow, he thought again, wondering where he'd heard that name before. Then the memory clicked. This was the man Brett had mentioned back at the Duval house. There was a very likely possibility that he was the one who was organizing the slave ring that Ray had been investigating. 

"What do you want with me?" 

Snow hesitated, tracing one thumb up along the line of Ben's brow. The sensation was remarkably soothing. "You're going to be working for me, Ben. But you really don't need to be worrying about that right now." 

Cold. He felt so dreadfully cold. "No," he whispered, knowing instinctively what Snow was referring to. "I won't." 

He was afraid that Snow might be angered by his refusal, but instead, Snow only looked amused. "Why don't you go back to sleep for a while. I'm sure you'll feel better when you wake up again." 

"No," Ben said again, but Snow was guiding him back down onto his side on the couch now. He went numbly, pillowing his head on his hand and closing his eyes against the tears that pricked underneath his eyelids. He wanted to go home, and he wanted Ray. This entire situation felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. 

"Go back to sleep, Ben," Snow said again. He ran a hand back through Ben's hair, stroking him as if he were a favored pet. Ben shuddered under the caress, feeling exhaustion reach for him, tangling him in its cold embrace. 

"No," he said again, so softly that not even he could hear it. The room felt echoingly empty around him, and he knew instinctively that Snow had left him alone. 

*Ray,* he thought, feeling somehow reluctant to speak the name aloud. *Help me.* 

It was his last coherent thought before the darkness moved in to claim him.


	2. The Return

Ray leaned back in his chair and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. His entire body felt stiff and sore, numbed from lack of sleep, but he couldn't let himself stop now. Not when they were so close. 

"You look like crap, Ray." Elaine's voice was strangely compassionate as she perched on the edge of his desk. "Why don't you take a break or something? Go get a cappuccino?" 

He checked a sigh and glared up at her, trying and then failing to hold back a yawn. "No, Elaine." He turned back to the open file folder in front of him, hoping she'd take the hint. 

Of course, being Elaine, she didn't. "How long has he been gone?" 

Ray sighed heavily. "Two months, fifteen days, four hours, and," -- he glanced at his watch -- "eleven minutes." 

Elaine stared at him. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she responded. "Jesus, Ray." 

He closed his eyes and rubbed at them again, willing the ache in his head to go away. "Was there something else you wanted to ask me, or was that it?" 

"I ... no. I just wanted to make sure you were all right." 

"Well, I'm fine." He hated that he was being so gruff with her, but he didn't seem able to control the rage that coiled inside him anymore. It was rage against the men who had taken Benny, and rage against himself, but it still licked out at other convenient targets whenever anyone ventured too close. 

Once again, he glanced down at the file folder in front of him. Andrew David Holstein, the cover page said. Age twenty-four, blond hair, brown eyes, 5'10" and 156 pounds. He looked like a bit of a weasel in the picture that was paperclipped to the front of the page. 

It had been a very long two and a half months. Some days, Ray believed the time since Ben had disappeared had been longer than the rest of his life combined. There hadn't ever been any real question that he'd be working this case, no matter how long it took, although of course it had taken a bit of maneuvering to convince Welsh. After a month, Welsh had tactfully suggested that he start turning his attention to some of his other cases, and Ray had very calmly laid his badge down on Welsh's desk as his reply. 

He was going to find Benny. If it took him the rest of his life, he was going to find him. 

Of course Welsh had come around eventually, and now everyone just sort of accepted the fact that he was working this one case, and this one case only. This particular slave ring had been in place for over a decade now, as far as anyone could tell, and nothing had even come close to cracking it. Not FBI stings, or shutting down the local branches when they popped up in different cities around the country. Once again, he was reminded of the analogy of the Hydra. That was how he felt sometimes: like some weird knight dressed in Armani, battling a serpent-headed monster with a thousand limbs that were trying desperately to drag him down. 

And the Hydra had been winning, until recently. God, he felt like he was half-dead some mornings, but he wasn't going to give up. Benny was out there somewhere, lost in whatever crack had opened up in the earth to swallow him whole. His greatest fear was that Benny might have been sold somewhere outside the country, but he refused to cross that bridge until he came to it. 

There was no real question in his mind what Benny would have been kidnapped for, and he didn't really like thinking about that, either. He knew the business that Charles and his goons had been involved in, and he knew perfectly well what Benny looked like. He'd be walking temptation to guys like that. 

Ray sighed and leaned forward over his desk, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't even think straight anymore. Whenever he tried to concentrate on the case, his mind just kept going back to Benny, and what he must be going through. He wasn't going to be any good to Benny at all if he kept this up. 

A hand on the back of his neck startled him, and he jerked back in surprise. He'd forgotten Elaine was there, and he was all ready to snarl some smartassed remark at her until he saw the naked concern shining in her eyes. God, did he really look that bad? 

He braced himself for the expected reprimand on how he wasn't taking care of himself, but she surprised him by nodding toward the folder in front of him. 

"Is that one of the guys who took him?" 

Ray's eyes moved back to the picture of Andrew Holstein. "Yeah. I think so." 

It had taken a lot of police work of the old-fashioned kind to get that bit of information: two months of reading through the files confiscated from the Duval house bust, reading and re-reading until his eyesight went blurry. Lots of legwork, tracking down snitches, calling in favors, laying it on thick when he went downtown to throw his weight around. Two months of wiretaps (some authorized, some not, but what Welsh didn't know wasn't going to hurt him), sitting alone in some cramped room with a headset and a tape recorder, listening to people go about their daily lives. 

And all of it had finally, finally, begun to pay off. A name, and with it, this file. Andrew Holstein had been arrested for a variety of crimes in his relatively short criminal career -- petty burglary, extortion, illegal gambling -- but nothing had ever stuck. He was a slippery little bastard, but Ray wasn't getting the impression that he had the brains to organize this kind of outfit. 

But even so, a small fish was better than no fish at all. And there was a very real possibility that if he was one of the men who'd been hiding in that alcove at the Duval house during the raid, then he would know where Benny was. 

He realized Elaine was still looking at him, and he pulled his thoughts together with an effort. "I'm waiting on a phone call," he said, figuring that he owed her some kind of explanation. "From one of my sources downtown who might know someone who knows someone who might know where this guy is hiding out. You know how it is." 

Elaine nodded at him, looking excited. "So this might be it, then. You did it." 

No. He refused to get his hopes up. "We won't know anything until we see what kind of news I get." 

And this was what it came down to, finally. Waiting. There was nothing else for him to do, no more rabbits for him to pull out of his hat. If this didn't pan out, he was back to square one. Which meant he had nothing, and Benny was probably gone for good. 

The shrill ringing of the phone on his desk startled him, and he glanced up at Elaine for a moment before reaching for it, feeling his heartbeat spike. He *refused* to get his hopes up, goddamn it. 

"Vecchio," he said into the phone, looking up into Elaine's suddenly luminous eyes. 

"Hey, man, it's Sal." Ray recognized his informant's voice immediately. "You know that guy you're looking for?" 

Ray's fingers tightened around the phone, and he let out his breath slowly before replying. "Yes," he said as calmly as he could. 

"Well, I got an address for you. 4199 Park Street. Apartment fourteen." 

Ray already had a pen in his hand, and he scribbled the address down on the edge of the desk blotter in front of him. "Got it," he said. "He live alone?" 

"Dunno. But it's still the usual fee, man, right?" 

"Yeah, yeah, you'll get your money." Ray threw the pen down on top of the desk and stood, reaching for his jacket. "I'll call you." 

He slammed the phone down and glanced down at Diefenbaker. The wolf was looking up at him from where he'd been napping beside the desk, and his tall ears pricked forward in silent question as he noted Ray's sudden agitation. 

"We found him," Ray said, shrugging into his jacket. "I mean, we might have found him." 

Dief whuffed softly and scrambled to his feet. 

"I'll tell Welsh to send some back-up," Elaine said, scooting back out of his way as he swept by her. 

"Sure," Ray said, without looking back. It would save him a phone call once he got on the road, 'cause he sure as hell wasn't going to stop to talk to him now. "Tell him to send in the fucking Marines." 

Dief trotted at his side as they made their way down to the parking garage. He jumped into the back seat when Ray opened the door for him, and Ray slid in behind the steering wheel after him. The wolf always sat in the backseat without having to be told, as if he didn't feel comfortable sitting in the seat that Benny had vacated. 

Oddly enough, Ray felt calmer than he had in weeks. He turned the Riv in the direction of downtown, driving with one elbow hanging out the open window beside him. He'd better stay calm, too, or else he might just rip Andrew Holstein apart the moment he laid eyes on him. 

4199 Park Street was a shabby two-story apartment complex that reminded Ray uncomfortably of Benny's apartment building. He pulled up into the front drive in front of the office and turned the engine off with a savage flick of his wrist. 

Gravel crunched under his boots as he made his way up the wooden steps to the front porch of the building. Apartment 14 was about three doors down on his right, and he moved toward it with a feeling of anticipation tightening in his chest. Dief followed silently at his heels. 

There was a grubby window next to the door, but the curtain inside was closed. The door itself might have been white at one time, but it was so scratched and dirty now it looked more grey than anything else. There was a large "14" painted in reddish-brown letters at about eye level, just above the small metal circle of the peephole. 

Ray rapped sharply on the door with his knuckles, glancing down at Dief. Dief's hackles were bristling, and his narrow gaze was fixed unwaveringly on the door in front of them. 

For a moment, Ray didn't think anyone was going to answer, but then there was a low shuffling sound inside. The door opened slightly, jarring hard against the chain lock, and Ray saw a dark brown eye blinking at him through the crack. 

"Yeah?" a sleepy voice said. 

Ray clenched his fist at his side, trying to ignore the tremors that were working their way under his skin. He forced a smile. 

"Brett sent me," he said. He had no idea who Brett was, but it was a name one of his informants had dropped sometime over the past month or so. 

The response was immediate. "Shit." The door slammed shut without warning, and there was a low scrape as the chain lock was removed. Then the door opened again, and Ray was ushered inside to a darkened room. 

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but then he could see clearly that this was indeed the man he was looking for. Andrew Holstein. He looked even more weaselish in person.

"Brett sent you, huh?" Holstein ran a hand back over his tousled hair and glanced down nervously at Dief. "I don't suppose he saw fit to mention that I'm working nights now, so I'm usually sleeping during the day." 

"He must have forgotten to mention it." Ray wandered around to look at the room. It was as untidy as he'd been expecting, with boxes and other miscellaneous crap piled high in the corners. He fingered the small clock on top of the television idly. 

"So what's up, man? Was there a problem with the delivery?" 

Ray had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. But he was growing bored with the conversation anyway. 

"Were you there at the Duval house when it was hit a couple months ago?" he asked. 

Holstein blinked at him, looking confused. He glanced down at Dief again. "What?" 

"You know." Ray gestured vaguely. "The raid where Charles was nabbed." 

Holstein eyed him suspiciously and took a step toward the hallway leading further into the apartment. Dief growled low in his throat, stopping him in mid-stride. 

"Who are you?" Holstein asked, turning to Ray with wide eyes. "You're not really a friend of Brett's, are you?" 

Ray shook his head. "No. I'm not." He walked over to the closed front door and locked it, reaching for his badge. Holstein's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head when he saw it. 

"Fuck." He glanced down at Dief again, then at the front door, then back at Ray. "You're a fucking cop." 

"Yeah. I'm a fucking cop." The rage was back again, simmering under his skin, burning away his hard-won calm. 

Holstein was sweating now. "What the fuck do you want, man? You gonna arrest me? You can't have anything that's gonna connect me to the Duval thing." 

Ray felt almost physically repulsed just being in the same room with this man. The truth was, he didn't have any proof of anything. Just hearsay off the streets from people who would never in a million years agree to testify in court anyway. They'd gotten their hands on Charles at the Duval house, of course, but Charles wasn't talking. Charles had wanted to talk to his fucking lawyer, and while he was going to spend the next ten years of his fucking life in fucking prison, he wasn't going to fucking take anyone else down with him. 

"You boys were careless," Ray lied, holding Holstein's gaze evenly as he stepped up next to Dief. Dief rumbled low in his chest, underscoring the comment. "You left way too much stuff behind when you bugged out of there. It took us a while, but we followed the paper trail right to your door." 

Holstein looked like he was about ready to jump out of his skin. "If that's true, why haven't you arrested me already?" 

"Because we don't want you." Ray didn't have to feign the disgust in his voice. "We want your boss." 

"You mean Brett." 

"Yeah, I mean Brett." Well, that was something, anyway. Ray sat down casually on the arm of the couch. "And the people Brett works for. You talk to me, and maybe you won't have to see the inside of a prison cell." 

Holstein licked his lips nervously. "What do you want from me?" 

"Names. Places. Everything you know." 

"But I don't *know* anything!" He looked frantic. "Really. Brett never told me anything." 

That much was probably true. "Where'd you take the Mountie?" 

At that, Holstein's face turned so white the change was visible even in the dimness of the room. "The M-Mountie?" 

"Yeah. Tall guy. Red suit. Pretty eyes. I'm sure you remember him." 

Holstein hesitated, and Dief started up with another low growl. Holstein took a half-step backward and caved. "We took him out west, to Snow's place. Damn it, we'd just lost everything! We needed *something* to cover our losses!" 

Stupid, stupid man. Ray was surprised this Brett character ever let him off his leash. "And where is Snow's place?" he asked, keeping his voice mild. 

"San Francisco. Look, I'll give you an address if you want. Just call the fucking dog off, okay?" 

San Francisco. Ray felt a thrill run up his spine that was almost overpowering, but he kept his face carefully expressionless. "You'll tell us about Snow," he said, "and Brett, and whoever else you can think of. We'll want to know everything if we're gonna cut a deal." 

Holstein nodded. "All right. All right. *Shit*." 

Dief whuffed softly and glanced up at Ray. If Ray didn't know better, he'd swear the wolf's eyes were laughing. 

"Okay, then." He could hear a car pulling up outside the door, and he went to the window to look outside. Huey and Dewey, right in the nick of time. "These two officers coming in are going to take your statement. You just give me Snow's address." 

Holstein nodded again and cast one more anxious look in Dief's direction. He went to the TV and snatched up a pen and a crumpled piece of paper from the table there, and he scribbled for a moment before handing the paper to Ray. 

"That's it, man. That's where he is. That's where we left the Mountie." 

Ray carefully smoothed out the wrinkles in the paper, feeling a sharp lance of pain move through his chest when he tried to draw in a breath. There was a knock on the door, and he moved woodenly to let Huey and Dewey in. 

Christopher Snow, the paper said. A name, and an address. 

He briefed Huey and Dewey on what Holstein had told him, then left the rat in their capable hands as he moved back outside. Dief followed beside him, looking up at him every few steps. 

"San Francisco," Ray said, as if the wolf could really understand him. His eyes were burning for some reason, and he rubbed the back of his hand across them irritably. "We're gonna go get Benny now, all right?" 

Dief barked a sharp affirmative as he jumped into the car, tail wagging. Ray ruffled the fur at the top of his head as he climbed in after him. 

He was almost dead on his feet, but that didn't matter. He could sleep on the plane. 

They were going to bring Benny home. 

******** 

After everything Ray had been through up until that point, the actual raid on Snow's home was rather anticlimactic. The FBI had to be involved, of course, since the crime went across state lines, but they actually managed to do their jobs with a minimum of hassle. Everything went off smooth as clockwork, and by the time Ray stepped off the plane at SFO, most of the work had already been done. 

He'd ended up leaving Dief in Chicago, since there wasn't time to make arrangements to transport him. Ray felt the wolf's absence keenly as he drove his rental car toward the hotel where Snow's recovered slaves were being kept until the excitement blew over. 

Apparently Christopher Snow had been running a stable of prostitutes out of his home that catered to a city-wide clientele. A few of them had been willing employees, but the majority of them were victims of the international slave trade he organized. It was big money, not having to give his workers a cut of the profit he made off them. Ray's hands gripped the steering wheel hard as he thought about Benny being in that kind of a situation. 

Stable of prostitutes. Even thinking the words made him feel physically ill. 

He kept his thoughts studiously blank as he drove across town, and he still managed to avoid thinking about things as he pulled up in front of the hotel. It was a Holiday Inn, very snazzy, and he guessed it was costing the FBI a small fortune to house the victims there. It was nice, that they'd go to such lengths to make the victims feel comfortable. 

And that was just wrong somehow. Ray stared hard at the ground in front of his feet as he walked into the front lobby. "Victim" and "Benny" just didn't belong in the same sentence together. 

He flashed his badge for the receptionist at the front desk and asked to see the head of the FBI detail assigned to the hotel. The young woman looked flustered, but she immediately picked up her phone and started dialing. 

Ray was met at the front desk by a tall woman with short blond hair, who looked like she could bench press Benny even on a bad day. Her dark charcoal pantsuit screamed "FBI" from all the way across the room. 

"Agent Halloran," she greeted him, reaching for his hand to shake it. "You must be Detective Vecchio from Chicago." 

Ray nodded. "Is he here?" 

She gestured for him to follow her. "You're a friend of the Mountie's, right?" 

Again, Ray nodded, falling into step beside her. His nails were pressing little crescents into his palms. "His name's Benton Fraser. Is he here?" 

"Yeah, he's here. We got him a room on the third floor." Halloran punched the button for the elevator, and they waited in silence for the doors to open. Ray stayed silent during the ride up, and Agent Halloran seemed content to leave him alone with his thoughts. 

The upstairs hallway was carpeted in rich maroon with gold accents, just like the lobby had been. It looked unspeakably gaudy to Ray at the moment. 

"Is he, uh ... is he okay?" he asked, breaking the silence. 

Halloran glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "He spent the early part of the afternoon at the hospital with the rest of them. I wasn't there, but as far as I know, he got a clean bill of health." She paused, looking uncomfortable for the first time. "They're going to have to wait a few months to confirm the HIV tests. But so far no one's tested positive for anything, as far as I know." 

Ray stumbled to a halt at those words, swaying slightly. The hallway seemed to swim around him, and he was barely aware of it when Halloran reached out a hand to steady him. 

"Whoa there." She guided him back against the wall, where he leaned hard, grateful for the support. "Just breathe for a minute, okay?" 

Oh god, she had no idea. No idea what it was like to have to deal with this. "Benny," he said, not knowing what he was trying to explain to her, or why. He sucked in a deep lungful of air. "He's not ... I mean, he..." 

"I know." Her voice was unexpectedly kind. "You're going to have to be strong for him right now, all right? He's been through a lot." 

"Yeah." Somehow, the words helped center him again. "Yeah." He wiped his sweaty palms across the front of his thighs and stood up again. 

Halloran didn't say anything else as she led the way down the corridor. She stopped at a door in the middle of the hallway that looked identical to all the others they'd passed by and knocked. 

"Ben?" she called, leaning forward to talk through the closed door. "It's Agent Halloran. I've got a friend of yours here to see you." 

Ray fidgeted nervously while he waited. He wasn't sure why he should feel nervous, but he did. 

The door opened a crack, just far enough for Ray to notice that the chain lock was still engaged. He caught a flash of a dark blue eye, and then the door closed again quickly. There was a tense scrabbling as the chain lock was removed, and then the door flew open. 

"Ray." 

It was Benny. Ray felt something thick catch up in his throat, and he couldn't say anything for a moment. He could only stare, feeling that odd burning sensation prick at his eyes again. 

"Is everything all right?" Halloran asked, sounding uncertain. 

Ben didn't look away from Ray. "Yes," he said. His voice sounded rusty, like it hadn't been used in quite some time. His eyes were suspiciously bright. "Everything's fine." 

Halloran nodded and turned to leave them alone, giving Ray a last encouraging squeeze on the arm. Ray didn't even notice when she left. 

"So." He had to clear his throat a few times before he could say anything further. "Are you going to invite me in?" 

"Oh! Of course." Ben stepped back away from the door, giving Ray room to enter. It was a nice room, spacious and all but spartan in its appearance, with two double beds against the left-hand wall. Ben closed the door again and locked it once Ray was inside. 

That was new. Benny and locks had never had more than a passing acquaintance before. Ray felt the burning in his eyes grow stronger. 

Ben looked different somehow. His hair was a bit longer than Ray remembered, and a loose lock of it hung across his forehead. He was dressed in soft beige slacks and a dark green button-down shirt, opened at the collar. Not his usual choice of attire at all. 

"It's, um ... it's good to see you." God, he sounded like an idiot. He wished he didn't feel so uncertain; it was *Benny*, for God's sake. 

Ben smiled, and something inside of Ray loosened. "It's good to see you, too, Ray." He hesitated for a moment, then gestured toward the table under the window. "Do you want to sit down?" 

"Sure." Ray was glad for the chance to look away for a minute. He felt awkward, and he wasn't used to that. He couldn't remember ever feeling this way around Benny, not since the first time they'd met and he'd called Ben's dad's murder "the dead Mountie thing". He liked to think that they'd come a long way since then. 

There was silence for a moment as Ben walked over to the counter to pour himself a cup of water. "You want anything?" he asked. 

It seemed suddenly unbearable that Ben was being so ridiculously courteous. "Hmm? Uh, no. No, thanks." 

Ben nodded and moved back to sit down at the table. He took a long drink of water and then turned to look out the window. 

The silence seemed suddenly too heavy to bear. "Halloran said ... said you had tests..." Ray winced. He'd be willing to bet that Ben sure as hell didn't want to talk about *that*. 

Nevertheless, Ben's voice was even when he answered, "I don't think we have anything to worry about. Snow was very ... protective of his investments." 

The words were spoken with a complete lack of inflection that made Ray's skin crawl. He shook his head, unable to deal with this yet, unable to think of anything else to say. 

"I knew you'd find me," Ben said quietly, taking another sip of his water. 

Ray stared at him. "They told you I was the one who found you?" 

"No." Ben's voice was calm. "But it could only have been you." 

Ray closed his eyes, feeling almost faint. Such trust, even after all this time. 

"Jesus, Benny," he said, and some of the raw emotion he was feeling clawed its way up his throat, roughening the words. "I thought I'd never see you again." 

Ben's face remained impassive, but a muscle in his jaw jumped before he spoke again. He didn't look away from the window. "I knew you'd find me, Ray," he said again. 

He could only imagine the kind of effort it was costing Benny to keep this kind of control. Without thinking, Ray reached across the table to touch his hand. "It's over, Benny. All right? It's done with. You're going home." 

Finally, Ben turned to look at him, and Ray felt his chest tighten at the fierce storm of emotion he saw churning in that usually calm blue gaze. A moment later, the emotion faded, slipping almost effortlessly behind the Mountie mask that Benny utilized so well. 

"Home," Ben said, dropping his gaze down to where Ray's hand was clasped over his. He let his breath out in a long sigh. "That ... sounds good, Ray." 

Ray squeezed his hand tightly, blinking hard. It hardly seemed real that the nightmare was finally over, that he was here, now, holding Benny's hand. He felt like he hadn't slept in months, and he was suddenly tired. So very tired. But none of that mattered now, because Benny was here, and he was safe, and they were going home. 

He couldn't wait to see the look on Diefenbaker's face when he saw them. 

******** 

Dief, of course, gave a predictably effusive welcome when they got back to Chicago. Turnbull had agreed to watch him while Ray was away, and he was waiting in front of the airport when Ray and Ben arrived. Even though it was against the airport's rules, he reached down to unclip the leash on Dief's collar as soon as he saw the two of them step out through the front doors. 

Ray smiled as Dief made a beeline straight toward Ben, and Benny dropped down to one knee just in time before sixty-plus pounds of enthusiastic arctic wolf plowed into him. He rocked with the impact, and then he was hugging Dief hard around the shoulders while Dief whined and licked furiously at his face, tail wagging so hard it looked like he was about ready to launch into orbit. 

The sight made Ray feel warm inside, and he looked up at Turnbull with a small grin. Turnbull was staying a respectful distance away, but he smiled when he met Ray's gaze. 

Finally, Ben and Dief's reunion came to an end, and Dief moved to Ben's side, panting happily as he gazed up at him. Ben's face looked more relaxed than it had since Ray'd first seen him in San Francisco yesterday afternoon. 

"Welcome home, sir." Turnbull moved forward as soon as Ben stood up again. As always, he seemed nervous around his superior, but he looked honestly happy to see him. "It's good to have you back again." 

"Thank you, Turnbull. It's good to be back." Ben looked strangely formal, even in casual clothes and loafers. 

Ray figured the last thing he needed was to be reminded of work at that moment. There would be time enough to get back in the swing of things later. "Thanks a lot, Turnbull," he said, gesturing toward Dief. "I wish I could have brought him with me, but..." He trailed off and shrugged. 

"Oh, of course. I understand perfectly. It was truly my pleasure to look after him for you." Turnbull tipped his hat slightly in the wolf's direction. "He truly is a remarkable animal." 

"Yes. He is." Ray glanced sideways at Ben, who was beginning to get that strained look back again. "I think we'd better be going. Thanks a lot, Turnbull." 

"No problem. You'll stop by the Consulate later?" 

"Sure." Anything to get him to *leave*. Ben was looking more and more uncomfortable. Maybe it was the crowds. Shouldering his overnight bag, Ray began to move forward toward the long-term parking area where he'd left the Riv. He was relieved when Ben and Dief fell into step beside him. 

He didn't say anything as he unlocked the car door and ushered Dief inside. Ben climbed into the passenger seat beside him and sat stiffly, staring out through the front windshield at the crowd that churned at the other end of the parking lot. 

Ray flexed his hands over the steering wheel for a moment without starting the car, just enjoying the silence. It felt so *normal* to have Ben sitting beside him here. It was something he'd thought he'd never get the chance to experience again. 

"So, where to?" he asked after a moment. "If you want, I can bring you back to chez Vecchio and treat you to a home-cooked Italian dinner. Or we can go back to your place and order out for pizza. I'm starved." 

Ben's lip twitched slightly at that. "I'd really just like to go home now, Ray. If that's all right." 

"Sure." He'd figured as much, but he thought he had to ask. It was entirely possible that Ben might feel uncomfortable being alone with another guy without the FBI within easy shouting distance. He was relieved that that didn't seem to be the case -- at least not with him. "Home it is, then." 

The drive to Ben's apartment passed in silence, punctuated only by Dief's happy panting and the subdued murmur of the traffic outside. Ray parked in front of the building and led the way upstairs. 

Everything was just the way Ben had left it. Ray had personally seen to the upkeep of the place, and he'd stopped by weekly to dust and clean. He'd made sure the rent was paid on time each month, and there was more than one night when he'd fought the urge to crash here in Ben's bed, surrounding himself with the memory of Benny. 

Strange how he seemed so much more aware of Ben's physicality, now that he was thinking about what he'd gone through these past months. The thought still made him feel ill, but there was no denying that Ben was an incredibly attractive man. How many men had touched him since he'd been taken away? How many women? And how much had they paid for the privilege? God, a guy could go crazy thinking about things like that. Ray felt guilty that it had even occurred to him. 

And Benny'd made no hint that he was ready to talk about any of it. So, fine. Ray would be here for him, and when he was ready to talk, he'd talk. 

"Thank you." Ben was looking at him now with eyes that were entirely too knowing. It must be pretty obvious, the effort Ray'd gone through to keep his place in shape while he was gone. 

"No problem, Benny." Ray was embarrassed by Ben's gratitude. Like there was any chance he could have done anything differently. He pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his coat. "What do you want on your pizza?" 

Ben shrugged. "Whatever you want is fine." He wandered over to the window and stood looking down at the street outside. He looked like he was afraid to touch anything, like that would make it all shatter like an illusion and disappear. 

It was a feeling Ray could readily identify with. Clearing the sudden gruffness from his throat, he busied himself calling the local pizza delivery. 

Dief was lying on the floor at Ben's feet when Ray turned back into the room, gazing up at him with dark eyes. His tail was still whooshing slowly across the floor behind him. Ray crouched down to scratch at the wolf's head while he put his cell phone away. 

"There's a patch of fur on his left side that seems shorter than the fur on his right," Ben said unexpectedly. He was looking down at the two of them now, and there was no expression at all in his eyes. "And it's a slightly different color. Did anything happen to him?" 

Ray coughed uncomfortably and dropped his gaze to the floor. "Yeah. He, uh ... he took a bullet when those guys took you out of the Duval house. It was touch and go for a while, but he made it through just fine." 

Ben went about three shades paler at that, and Ray ached with the need to reach out and touch him, reassure him. But he wasn't sure how Ben would react to that, so he kept his hands to himself. 

"He's fine now," he repeated, willing that lost expression off Ben's face. "You can see that he's fine. He's been staying with me at the house. Ma and the girls have been spoiling him rotten, and everyone loved having him hang around at the station." 

Ben nodded, seeming to process this. After a moment, he asked, "Was anyone else hurt?" 

Ray hesitated. "Yeah," he said reluctantly. "There was a patrol officer on the back porch when those guys made a break for it. He was shot in the chest, but he pulled through all right, too. No one was killed, Benny." 

The relief on Ben's face was almost palpable. Trust him to feel guilty for something he wasn't even conscious at the time to help prevent. His gaze moved to the window again. "So how did you find me?" 

Ray buried his fingers deep in Dief's scruff, drawing comfort from the wolf's presence. "I, ah, tracked down some leads and found out that one of Charles's cronies was a guy named Andrew Holstein. I studied his file and figured he was the weak link in the chain." 

Ben nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. He was." 

That made Ray pause, wondering just how well Ben knew Andrew Holstein. Determinedly, he forged on. "Well, he rolled over on his friends in about two minutes flat, once I'd leaned on him a bit." He grinned wryly, stroking over Dief's head. "Dief helped." 

Dief looked up at him with tongue lolling. He looked like he was smiling. 

Even Ben seemed to smile a bit at that. "I can imagine." 

There was an awkward silence for a while then that Ray was hesitant to break. He wanted to ask just what Ben knew about Andrew Holstein, and whether Holstein had been one of the men who'd ... abused him. He wished he'd taken the opportunity to beat Holstein' face in when he'd had the chance. 

"Do you want to talk about anything?" he asked at last, without looking up from his hand where it stroked slowly over Dief's fur. 

There was a heartbeat's pause. "No." Ben sounded very certain of this. "No, I really don't, Ray." 

Ray swallowed thickly. "Okay. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, all right? You can tell me anything you want to. Or nothing. I just ... I just don't want things to change between us. I'm your friend, Benny." 

This time when Ben looked at him, there seemed to be an honest warmth in his eyes. He smiled slightly. "Thank you, Ray." 

And that was okay then, he supposed. Ben apparently felt comfortable around him, which was more than Ray figured he had a right to expect under the circumstances. If he had to feel like he was being kept at arm's distance for a while, well ... that was only to be expected. He could live with that, even if it did rankle. 

Ben was home. That was the only thing that mattered. 

Giving Dief one last pat on the head, he stood up to see if the pizza guy had arrived yet.


	3. The Bargain

Ray wasn't quite sure where everything had begun to fall apart. At first, it had seemed like Ben was adjusting well to being back home again. He'd resumed his duties at the Consulate, although he'd stopped coming by the station where Ray worked after the first week. Not that Ray could blame him. He was probably getting irritated with the sideways looks and the cautious greetings and the voices he could hear murmuring behind his back whenever he left a room. The first day Ben called to say he wouldn't be coming in, Ray had to fight the urge to stand up and scream obscenities at the entire bullpen. 

Why couldn't people just let it go? Sure, Ben'd been kidnapped. And yeah, he'd been raped. God. Ray still hated to think about it. But handling him with kid gloves wasn't going to make things any easier on him. 

But the fact was, everyone knew he'd been one of Christopher Snow's whores. That still seemed incomprehensible to Ray, like he'd slipped into some kind of weird, Twilight Zone-esque mirror universe. He stopped by to see Ben every evening, and Ben seemed grateful for his presence, even though he still wouldn't discuss anything more personal than the weather. Ray could tell by the lines around his eyes that he wasn't sleeping, but he didn't know what he was supposed to do about it. 

In fact, aside from the growing weariness in Ben's eyes, Ray would have thought that he'd forgotten about the whole thing entirely. He'd gone to a few mandatory meetings with a psychologist named Dr. Angelo before the Dragon Lady'd let him come back to work, but those had passed without any real acknowledgment between them and he'd eventually stopped going. Ray felt it was a safe bet that Ben hadn't opened up any more to Dr. Angelo than he had with him. 

He could tell that Benny was having trouble adjusting to things again, even though he was doing his best to hide it. It was subtle, but it was there, if anyone bothered to look. He was quieter than Ray remembered, and he spent a lot of time looking out the windows. That was new. Ray couldn't help wondering if it was a habit he'd picked up during his time in California, if maybe looking out of windows had been the closest to freedom he thought he'd ever be again. 

But of course, they didn't talk about it. That unstated agreement was beginning to chafe a little, and Ray wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to hold up his end of the deal. He wanted to be there for Benny, and he didn't want him to feel pressured, but it was becoming patently obvious that Ben was in pain somewhere inside, and the wounds were not lessening as time went by. 

Which is what led to them spending yet another silent evening together in Benny's apartment, steadfastly not talking about whatever was on their minds. It was enough to make Ray feel kind of crazy at times, although he carefully kept his frustration hidden. The last thing he wanted was to make Ben feel like he was upset with him. 

"I really can't stand this show." Ray shifted back in his chair and put his hands behind his neck, stretching. This was new, too, that Benny had a TV. Ray suspected he'd gotten it so they could spend time together without having to actually *talk* about anything. 

"It's not so bad." Ben didn't look away from the screen. Outside the window, the sun was setting, and the fading light looked strangely eerie as it mingled with the flickering light from the TV across his face. 

Ray wasn't even sure what they were watching anymore. The endless procession of old cop show reruns had become a staple of their evenings during the week, and they all looked the same to him anymore. Just a big gaudy conglomerate of overdone explosions and beautiful women who were either too good to be true, or else evil incarnate. And of course the dashing heroes always saved the day at the end of their allotted hour. 

It was enough to make him want to throw the damned TV out a window. Because in real life, problems didn't go away that easily. If they ever did. And that was just too goddamned depressing to think about, that maybe their problems would never really go away, that maybe this new, quiet, impeccably demure Benton Fraser was here to stay. 

"What is it that's still bothering you?" he asked, without really planning to. It was almost funny, how easily he'd given up on his resolve not to ask that particular question. 

He could feel Ben looking at him. "What do you mean?" 

Ray's smile twisted slightly. *Way to dance around that bullet, Benny.* 

"I mean you." He turned in his chair, wanting to see Ben's face for this one. "You've been acting strange ever since you came back home." 

Ben's face was carefully expressionless. "I'd say I have reason," he said quietly. 

It was almost physically painful to dig like this, but Ray couldn't stop now. Couldn't stop, not when it would mean going back to the unbearable silence that had grown between them over the past several weeks. 

"Yeah, you do. You have more reason than anybody. But that doesn't make it any easier for me to know that you're hurting inside, and you won't let me do anything to help." 

Ben's eyes lowered, unwilling to meet Ray's gaze. And that hurt, even though Ray knew it shouldn't. "I'm not sure what you want me to say, Ray." 

Ray sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "How about you start by telling me when you're feeling bad. I'm not ... I'm not asking for details or anything. But I'd like to be there for you, if you'll let me." 

"You are there for me, Ray. You've been there for me every day." 

That made Ray angry for some reason. "Yeah, sure, Benny. I'm here for you. I'm here to watch TV and eat your food and sit around and talk about the weather. You never ask me to come over. I feel like I'm intruding half the time, like I'm interrupting some kind of private moment you've got going here. Do you even want me here? Do you want me to leave? Because if that's the case, you just have to say so." 

Ben moistened his lips slightly before responding. "I don't want you to leave, Ray." 

Ray couldn't believe that he'd just lashed out at Ben that way. God, was he insane? "Look, Benny." It was an effort not to just get up and walk out of the room. He was making a mess of things. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to explode like that." 

"No." Ben straightened slightly, and for a moment, he almost looked like the old Ben again. "No, Ray, you had good cause." He reached for the remote and thumbed off the TV, cutting a pair of scantily-clad blondes off in mid-caterwaul. "What is it you want to talk about?" 

Ray shook his head, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. "Whatever you want, Benny. Anything. Everything. I just want you to feel comfortable enough with me to tell me what you're feeling." 

"What I'm feeling?" Ben seemed to be trying the question on for size. 

"Yeah. What you're feeling. Come on, Benny, it's not that difficult. We used to talk like this all the time. Did you have a good day, bad day, how many times did the Dragon Lady make you want to quit your job today? Or make it simple. Just one word. Tell me what you're feeling right now." 

Ben stared at him for a long moment before dropping his gaze again. Ray knew this new Ben well enough now to know that was a bad sign. 

He felt a sudden tightening in his stomach. "You're not ... you're not hurting anywhere, are you?" It was something that hadn't even occurred to him until now, that Ben might be in some kind of physical pain. 

Ben smiled slightly. "No, Ray. Not ... in the way you mean." 

"Well what, then?" Ray was growing increasingly frustrated with the runaround that Ben kept trying to give him. 

Ben sighed, lowering his gaze again. It was a moment before he answered. "I suppose I'm just feeling ... guilty, I guess." 

"Guilty?" Ray wasn't sure what he was expecting, but that sure wasn't it. "What do you have to feel guilty for?" 

Ben let out his breath in a long sigh, leaning further against the back of his chair. The fading light from the window behind him cut his face in vivid profile as he paused to gather his thoughts. 

When he finally spoke, his voice was low. 

"I fought them at first," he said, and something in the tone of his voice made Ray's skin crawl. A part of Ray made him pull away slightly at those words, not sure at all that he wanted to hear what Ben was telling him. Ben continued as if he didn't notice Ray's reaction. "When I was first brought to Snow's place. So he ... he gave me to people who wanted an unwilling whore to play with." 

*An unwilling whore.* Ray felt ill suddenly, and he rubbed his suddenly clammy palms furiously against the front of his slacks. "Jesus, Benny," he whispered. 

Still, Ben refused to look at him. "They were ... rough. A lot of them liked to ... to inflict pain, and Snow would let them, for an additional fee." He laughed shortly, although the sound seemed more lost than amused. "It didn't take me long to decide that I really didn't want to deal with those types of people anymore." 

Ray believed he could tell where this story was going. "So you agreed to work for him. For people who didn't want someone who was ... unwilling." 

"They paid more," Ben agreed. The calmness with which he said the words was chilling. "It seemed to be a good business deal all the way around." 

Ray felt as if a wildfire were trying to devour him from within, even as his hands turned numb from the cold that settled over him. The thought of Ben in that kind of a situation, being hurt, being forced to sell himself like that... He shook his head. "You did what you had to, Benny. No one's gonna blame you for that." 

The look Ben turned on him was unreadable, touched with the barest echo of pain. "I can still feel them touching me," he whispered. His voice was hoarse. "You have to believe me, Ray. I never wanted ... never *wanted*..." 

Instantly, Ray was moving forward, dropping to his knees beside Ben's chair. Ben folded easily when he reached for him, leaning forward to bury his face against the side of Ray's neck. Dief looked up from where he lay in the lingering patch of sunlight underneath the window and whuffed softly. 

"It's all right, Benny." Ray was near tears now, even if Ben's eyes seemed to be remaining stubbornly dry. His throat scratched painfully as he struggled to find the right words to say. As if there were any words that could make this situation go away. 

"I admit to feeling rather disgusted with my reaction to all this." Ben's voice was a soft breath against the side of Ray's neck. 

That struck Ray as being indescribably ludicrous. "I'd say you're allowed to feel upset, Benny. You were *raped*, for God's sake." He could feel Ben flinch at the word, but Ray wanted him to hear it. Rape, not a willing seduction. Not his fault at all. 

It was a while before Ben spoke again, but Ray was perfectly content to hold him. This was the closest Ben had let him get since this whole thing had started, and not just in physical proximity.

Finally, Ben spoke. "Ray." 

Ray smoothed his fingers lightly over the nape of Ben's neck, trying to soothe the barely detectable tremors there. "Yeah, Benny?" he said, watching as his breath stirred the soft strands of hair in front of his face. 

"Would you stay here with me tonight?" 

The request caught Ray off guard. He pulled back slightly so he could look Ben in the eye. "Are you sure you want that? I mean, I don't want you to feel--" 

"I don't want to be alone anymore, Ray." 

And that was enough to decide Ray right there. This was the first thing that Ben had asked of him since they'd returned from San Francisco, and he'd be damned if he was going to refuse him now. 

"Sure, Benny." He did his best to summon up a smile, knowing full well that his effort wasn't entirely successful. "I'll stay here with you." 

The relief on Ben's face at that would have been funny if it didn't make Ray feel like he wanted to cry. He had to physically distance himself for a minute so he could get himself under control, and he took the opportunity to use his cell phone to call home and let his family know he'd be spending the night at Benny's. As he'd expected, there was a general furor over this announcement until he assured them that Benny was fine, and he gave Ben a wry look that he thought might actually have been echoed back at him. "Take care of him," Frannie made him promise, and he did, just before he hung up the phone. 

Ray stayed in the apartment while Ben went down the hall to shower, and he was grateful when Dief padded up to sniff comfortingly at his hand. Ray sat in front of the TV and ruffled the fur of the head Dief set in his lap, smiling slightly when he saw the banked adoration in the wolf's gaze. 

"He's gonna be fine," Ray said quietly, glancing briefly at the shadows that flocked at the corners of the room. The sun had set already, and he really should get up to turn on a light or two. "He's gonna be just fine." 

Ben returned to the apartment dressed in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, with a dampened white towel draped around his neck. It was more clothes than Ray was used to seeing him wear when he came back from the shower, but he tactfully didn't comment on it. 

"Why don't you go to bed?" Ray urged. He'd finally motivated himself to turn on some lamps before Ben got here, and the white light flickered softly over the damp strands of his hair. "You'll start feeling better if you let yourself get some sleep." 

Ben hesitated. "You'll be all right out here?" 

"Sure. I'll watch a little TV, and maybe later I'll raid your fridge." He grinned, feeling pleased when Ben smiled a little in return. "I think I've got some clothes left here from last time, so I'll be good to go in the morning." This wasn't the first time he'd crashed at Benny's place, though usually it was because they were working on a particularly difficult case and he didn't want to risk waking up his family at some ungodly hour of the morning. 

Ben relaxed a little at that, and he nodded. "All right. Good night, Ray." 

"'Night, Benny." Ray settled back in his chair in front of the TV, trying for a nonchalant pose while he watched Ben disappear into the bedroom. As soon as Ben was gone, he leaned his head back against the chair and sighed, laying one arm across his eyes to block out the light from the room. 

He couldn't stop thinking about the things Ben had told him. *They were rough*, *They enjoyed inflicting pain*, *Snow let them ... for an additional fee*. Shit. Goddamn it. He felt tears pricking behind his closed eyelids, but he ignored them, fighting the burn of the tears that wanted to claw their way up from his throat. 

A part of him wanted to go out and find Christopher Snow, wherever he might be, and brutally introduce him to the real meaning of the word "pain". Another part of him wanted to stay right here, by Benny's side, and never, ever leave. The rapid swing between bitter rage and bleak depression was making him dizzy, and he felt suddenly glad that he hadn't been able to eat that much of a dinner, because he didn't think his stomach would have been able to hold onto it in his current state of mind. 

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke some time later to feel Dief nuzzling wetly at his hand. Ray blinked groggily and glanced down at the white-furred head in his lap, but before he could even think to question why Dief had chosen to wake him, he heard a low, mumbling cry coming from the bedroom. 

Instantly, he was sitting bolt upright in the chair, heart pounding. Dief whined softly, and Ray fondled the wolf's ears absently as he stood and made his way to the bedroom door. 

The door was ajar, and he pushed it open carefully. Ben's bedroom was lit faintly by the dull gleam of the streetlights outside the window, and he could see the huddled form in the bed against the far wall clearly. Ben was covered in blankets up to his neck, lying with his back to the door, and as Ray watched, he shifted slightly and let out another low moan. 

The sound was heartrending. Ray moved into the room without thinking and dropped down to his knees beside the bed, reaching for Benny's shoulder. Ben stiffened under his hand, but made no move to pull away from him. 

"Benny," he said quietly, leaning down to speak into Ben's ear. He shook Ben's shoulder gently. "Benny, wake up. You're having a dream." 

There was no real moment when he was aware of Ben coming awake, but suddenly there were two round, dark eyes gazing up at him. Ben's skin was warm under the thin fabric of his T-shirt, and Ray moved his hand away quickly, feeling his face heat. Maybe in the darkness, Ben wouldn't be able to see it. 

"I'm sorry," he said, speaking just above a whisper. "I didn't want to wake you, but..." 

Ben nodded, closing his eyes again briefly. "It's all right, Ray. I've been ... dreaming a lot lately." 

Yeah, he probably was. That would certainly explain why he hadn't been sleeping recently. Ray felt guilty that he hadn't thought of that before. 

"Try to go back to sleep again," he urged, stifling a yawn as he moved to stand up again. What time was it, anyway? "I'll be right in the other room if you need anything." 

To his surprise, Ben's hand snaked out from under the covers to snag his wrist. "Don't go." 

Ben's voice sounded almost desperate. Ray hesitated, glancing down at the hand on his arm. "It's okay, Benny. I'll just be in the next room. If you need anything, just yell, all right?" 

"No. Please, Ray." Ben was shaking now, and his eyes were closed again, as if he couldn't bear to meet Ray's gaze. 

Ray's heart felt like it was going to crack open from the emotions that were running through it. "What do you want, Benny?" he asked quietly. 

Ben shuddered. "Sleep with me," he said, exhaling the words on a soft sigh. 

The words made Ray feel as if he'd just been doused with a bucket of ice water. "Benny, I don't think--" 

And just that fast, Ben's hand released him and disappeared again under the blankets. "It's all right, Ray." He closed his eyes and burrowed down against his pillow. 

Ah, *jeez*. "Benny..." Ray fought the urge to curse out loud and drew up on his knees, shrugging out of his suit jacket. "All right. Just give me a sec, okay?" 

He kept his gaze lowered as he folded the jacket carefully and set it aside on top of the chest against the wall. Thankfully, Ben's eyes stayed closed as Ray moved to unbutton his shirt. 

"You, uh ... you got an extra pair of sweats I can borrow?" he asked, feeling his cheeks grow warm again. Surely Ben didn't expect him to crawl into that skinny excuse for a bed with his suit still on. 

Ben nodded. "In the dresser." 

Well, that was a relief, anyway. Ray stood up and padded over to the dresser. He found the sweats in the third drawer down, and he cast a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Ben wasn't watching before he stepped out of his slacks. 

The air was cold against his skin, and he couldn't stop shivering as he pulled Benny's sweat pants on. They were ridiculously loose on him, and he had to tighten the cord around the middle as far as it would go just to keep them from falling down over his hips. Still, it was better than nothing. 

He folded his clothes and laid them on top of his jacket, then moved hesitantly to stand beside the bed. He felt almost unbearably naked, even though he was wearing pants and a T-shirt. God, he couldn't believe he was doing this. 

"Are you sure you want me here?" he asked, wishing almost desperately that Ben would say no. In the light from the windows, Benny's skin looked almost golden, deepening to smoky paleness where the shadows touched him. God, he was beautiful. 

In response, Ben shifted backward and lifted up the edge of the blankets. 

Ray felt dizzy suddenly, and it took a moment before he could bring himself to accept the invitation. Unexpectedly, tears pricked at his eyes again. There was a level of trust being invoked here that suddenly made him feel like a heel for being so uncomfortable with the situation. Ben was desperately unhappy, and he wanted Ray to be here with him, to help him feel like he wasn't quite so alone. The fact that he'd want *anyone* in his bed at this point seemed like a minor miracle. 

Suddenly determined, Ray slid into the bed next to Ben and settled on his side, facing out across the room while Ben closed the blankets around him. He startled when he felt Ben's arm slip around his waist, and then he forgot how to breathe entirely when he felt a long length of warm skin press up against his back. 

"Uh, Benny?" he said, struggling to speak through the sudden pounding of his heart. 

"Go to sleep, Ray," Ben urged. Ray could feel the soft flutter of his breath on the back of his neck. 

*Shit.* Ray stared hard across the room at the open door, feeling his face burn, and tried not to make his discomfort too noticeable. Did this seem normal to Ben now? Falling asleep with another man in his arms? The thought made a low roaring start up in his ears, and Ray squeezed his eyes shut, willing the confusion churning in his gut to go away. 

Of course it was reasonable that Ben's body would have developed certain ... expectations ... over the past several months. Willing or no, he'd probably fallen into certain habits that were hard to break, even now. Like having company while he slept. Was that why he hadn't been sleeping well lately? The thought was troubling. 

Jeez, Benny was putting out heat like a furnace. Ray shifted as discreetly as he could, trying to edge away from him, but Ben followed him with a low, sleepy murmur and he finally gave up. Ben was almost draped across him now, and as uncomfortable as it was, Ray had to admit that there was a certain ... novelty to being held like this. It was comforting, in a strange sort of way. 

Not to mention that it was making his skin itch in ways that he didn't want to think about right now. Because Ben was a *guy*, for God's sake, and more than that, he was Ray's friend. It was entirely inappropriate to be feeling anything remotely like the slow, coiling pleasure that stubbornly insisted on licking underneath his skin down into his groin. And feeling this way because it was *Benny* pressed up against him was criminal, after everything he'd been through. 

Ray shifted again, unable to get comfortable. No matter what kind of controls his head tried to instill on the situation, his body was steadfastly refusing to listen. His cheeks flamed with the knowledge that he was actually getting hard from this, and he angled his body away from Benny so he wouldn't have to be made aware of it. It was perfectly normal to feel this way, he assured himself. His dick didn't care *who* he was in bed with; it just knew there was a warm body in bed with him when there hadn't been one there for far too long. 

He was mortified when Ben's hand slid down over his hip to brush across the front of his pants, nudging up slightly against his erection. But nothing could have prepared him for the low words that Ben murmured against his neck. 

"Would you like me to take care of that for you, Ray?" 

Ray gasped, feeling as if he'd been pierced through the chest with a sharp stick. His heart was pounding so forcefully it felt like it was going to break right out through his ribcage. 

"Benny, no," he said, trying to move his hips away. He was sweating now. "*God*." 

Ben didn't say anything, but his hand moved down again, tracing the ridge of Ray's erection through the cloth that covered it. "Are you sure?" he whispered. His voice stirred the hair behind Ray's ear, making him shiver. 

Ray felt like he'd slipped into some weird alternate dimension. This was a side of Ben he'd never seen before, had never even dreamed existed. 

"Benny." He tried to keep his voice calm. "You don't have to--" 

"Please, Ray." There was something vulnerable about Ben's voice, something wounded that tugged at Ray's heart. 

No. No, this was wrong, no matter which way he looked at it. Guys just didn't *do* guys, except that he knew perfectly well that they did. Okay, so *Benny* didn't do guys, except Ray knew he had. Shit. Well, at least *he* didn't do guys, and that, while true in the strictest sense, wasn't quite enough to make him forget the way he'd been looking at Ben lately, or the numerous subtle yet undeniable times over the years he'd caught himself checking out certain acquaintances of the male persuasion when he came across them. 

But there was no way he could take advantage of Ben that way, even if he was so inclined. Ben was trusting him, Ben was fucking *damaged* after his time in California. Ray was the one who had to be strong here. 

His resolve wavered as Benny's hand moved over him, stroking him lightly through the thin material of the sweat pants. Ray couldn't stop his hips from surging forward into the touch, but he got himself under control again with an effort. He could hardly breathe at all now, and Benny's breath was panting lightly behind his ear. 

"Please, Ray," Ben said again, and Ray closed his eyes at those words, shuddering. *God*. Ben seemed so needy, like he honestly wanted to do this for him. But he couldn't. Could he? Would it hurt or help the situation if he turned Benny down? 

"God, Benny." It wasn't the most intelligent response he could have come up with, but it was all he seemed able to say. Ben was still stroking him slowly, and Ray bit down hard on his lower lip when he felt those agile fingers moving at the cord tied around his waist, loosening the knot. 

"Benny..." One last plea, lost in the wave of sensation that was crashing through him. He felt like he'd fallen into some bizarre rift in reality, like nothing that was happening was actually real. Surely he wasn't lying here in Benny's bed, harder than he'd ever been around a woman before, with Benny's hand sliding in underneath the elastic of his pants to touch him ... to touch him *there*... 

"Oh, *God*." He arched as Benny's fingers closed around him, and Ben was right there behind him, supporting him as he melted into the touch. His head fell back against Ben's shoulder, and he shuddered as he felt Ben's dry lips brush across his cheek. 

"It's all right, Ray." Ben's voice was soothing. "Just relax. I've got you." 

Ray closed his eyes and gave in with a sigh, drifting on the sensations that spiraled through him. He felt Ben kiss him again, against his neck this time, and then Ben was laying him back against the bed so he could lean over him and kiss him on the mouth. 

Ben tasted like toothpaste and the lingering traces of the tea he'd had with supper. Before Ray could fully register the fact that he'd just kissed his best friend, Ben pulled away from him, and Ray's eyes flew open when he felt a warm weight settle between his thighs. Panic thudded to instant life inside his chest, but then Ben's hand was inside his pants again, sliding warm fingers down the length of his erection. Point and match. The last of Ray's uncertainty about whether he should allow this to continue evaporated, and he groaned long and low as his hips bucked up sharply into the touch. 

"It's okay," Ben whispered against his lips. "Trust me." Ray's brain fizzled and threatened to short-circuit entirely when he felt the tip of Ben's tongue trace across his lower lip. 

Trust him. Of course Ray trusted him. Ray had absolutely no idea what was happening, or how they'd gotten to this point, but trusting Benny was something he was good at. He let his head fall bonelessly against the pillow and closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Ben's hand on his dick. God, that felt good, and his hips were moving now in steady counter-rhythm as Ben's fingers moved over him. 

Even so, he had to say something when Ben started to pull the pants down over his hips. He scrabbled for Ben's hand and held on tightly, stopping him from doing anything further. 

"Ben," he said, barely recognizing his own voice. "*Benny*. You don't have to do this." 

Ben smiled at him, his face hovering like a Raphaelite painting over Ray's midsection. "It's okay, Ray," he said again, patiently. His voice was thick and dark, with an underlying huskiness to it that arrowed straight into Ray's groin. "I want to." 

And then Ray's world eclipsed as Ben's mouth closed over his erection, surrounding him completely in a soft, wet heat that shivered straight down to his bones. 

Jesus *Christ*. 

The world seemed to fall out from under him as he fell victim to the assault of those mobile lips and tongue, and his fingers tightened in the silky tangle of Ben's hair. Ben grunted in what might have been approval, and he ran a soothing hand over Ray's stomach, guiding him through the storm of emotion and pleasure that washed through him. 

Ray could already feel his orgasm coiling at the base of his spine. Jesus fucking Christ, Ben was good at this. And that was something he did *not* want to think about, how Ben might have come by this level of expertise. He threw his head back hard against the pillow as Ben pulled off him in one long, slow, sucking glide, and then engulfed him again in a tsunami of wet heat that took his breath away. 

He cried out Ben's name as he came, and the sound echoed eerily in the still room. Afterward, he lay panting up at the ceiling while Ben moved back up to lay beside him. Ray's nerves were still jangling from the effects of the sensual assault, but somehow he had the presence of mind to realize that Ben seemed to have withdrawn inside himself again, as if that sexy, needful stranger had only come out to play long enough to see that Ray's needs were taken care of. 

God, this was so fucked up. This wasn't how Ray had wanted it to be at all. Not that he'd *wanted* any of this to happen, but it certainly wasn't how he would have wanted his very first sexual experience with Benny to turn out. Ray reached for him and felt relieved when Ben folded against him, burying his face in against the side of Ray's neck and shaking in his arms. 

He could tell by the hard heat against the side of his thigh that Ben hadn't come yet. That might account for a lot of the subtle tremors moving through him, but not all of them. Ray was suddenly achingly certain that Ben would just as easily deny his own arousal and go to sleep if Ray told him to. Was it something he'd been made to do before? 

"Oh, Benny," he sighed, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. This had been a bad idea from the very start, and now he wasn't sure how to make things right again. He slid a hand down Ben's sweat-dampened back and pressed lightly at the base of his spine, encouraging that warm body to move against him. Apparently Ben had shed the sweats before coming to bed, because he was dressed only in a pair of thin boxers now. 

"Ray," Ben whispered, sounding pained, but he rolled forward against Ray and began thrusting his hips slowly, settling his erection into the hollow at the front of Ray's hipbone. Ray let him, guiding him gently with the hand on his back, and murmured soothingly in his ear. He wasn't even sure what he was saying, but it seemed to have the desired effect, because Ben suddenly relaxed against him, increasing the force of his thrusts and panting harshly as he neared the edge. 

He came with a low groan, muffling the sound against Ray's neck, and Ray held him tightly while the tremors rocked through them both. Ben was crying now, a warm, near silent flood of tears that seemed somehow more tragic for the lack of energy behind them. He still wouldn't look up at Ray, but he seemed relaxed now in a way that he hadn't been since he came home from San Francisco. 

"God, Benny, I'm sorry." Ray pressed a kiss to the side of Ben's face and just held him, feeling numb inside. He wasn't sure he felt any better than the men who had raped Benny in the past, or if maybe this was something Ben had desperately needed, and the uncertainty was tearing him apart. But for now the only thing he could think to do was to hold Benny, and be here for him, and let him know that he wasn't alone. 

After a few minutes, Ben quieted and settled against him with an exhausted sigh, resting with one arm draped forward across Ray's stomach. Ray kept one arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders and stared up at the ceiling as he awkwardly reached down to pull his sweat pants back up over his hips. 

Ben's body felt good against him, warm and comfortingly solid, and Ray closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of him. He smelled like soap and clean sweat, and the air was tinged ever so faintly with the scent of their sex. Not a smell he normally associated with Benny, but it was one he thought he might be able to get addicted to, if given half a chance. Either that, or it was going to drive him stark raving mad. 

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about his abrupt slide into homosexuality, but it seemed to be bothering him much less than he'd expected it would. Maybe because it was Benny he'd just had sex with, and he already knew they loved each other, whether or not there was anything sexual between them. As a matter of fact, it really just felt like an extension of the friendship that was already in place between them -- Benny had needed him, and Ray'd been there for him, even in this. 

And he felt it was a sure bet that Benny wouldn't have let anyone else close enough to him to do this. Not now, not after what he'd been through. So maybe it wasn't a total disaster that they'd taken this step. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be all right after all. 

Feeling somewhat comforted, Ray closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.


	4. Derailment

Ben seemed to fall into a bit of an equilibrium after that, and he even started coming by the station again. Ray fully expected that to be the end of the sex thing between them, but Ben surprised him the following night by pressing him up against the wall as soon as they stepped inside the door of his apartment, and reaching for the button of his slacks. 

"Benny," he said in protest, reaching for Ben's wrists and holding them away from his body. His heart was pounding, and Ben's eyes looked like two open wounds as they gazed up at him from where he knelt on the floor. 

"*Please*, Ray," Ben said to him, and Ray let his head fall back against the wall with a groan. Ben's hands moved at his waist, and then his suddenly aching erection was being engulfed in that familiar wet heat once again. 

Afterward, when he managed to pull his few remaining brain cells back together, he pulled Benny into the bedroom and undressed him. He wasn't entirely sure that it was the right thing to do, but he couldn't just leave things like that between them. And how could he possibly chastise Benny for doing *that*? 

It still blew him away that Benny would trust him like this. He wanted to let Benny know how much that meant to him, but as usual, words failed him right when he needed them most. It had been the same way with Ange, all those years ago.

But that wasn't going to be good enough this time. Benny meant more to him than anyone he'd ever known, and he wanted to make sure that Ben knew it. And so he tried to let Ben know how he felt in the only way he knew how -- with actions, instead of words. His hands were shaking, but Ben didn't seem to notice, and he responded so sweetly to Ray's caresses, his kisses. Ray wanted to show him what it could be like between two people who cared about each other, what it was like to be made love to, to be touched with love instead of greed. 

He wasn't entirely sure that Ben was getting the message, but when he came, it was Ray's name on his lips. Ray devoured the sound hungrily, feeling like he was flying, riding the incredible high of knowing he'd been to the one to make Benny feel this way, lose control this way. Ben clung tightly to him, breathing heavily against the side of his neck, and for a short while, it seemed that the shadows around them lifted. 

It became habit to have Ben service him whenever they stepped inside his apartment at the end of the day. Ray was uncomfortable with the arrangement, but he didn't have the will to stop it. It felt so *good* to make love to Benny, and in truth, Ben seemed to be facing the outside world with more confidence now. But there was still something subtle about the way Ben approached him at the start of their encounters that made Ray feel dirty inside. 

It was enough to prompt him to take some action of his own one evening. It was a night just like any other night, and he wasn't sure what made it different except that they walked into the apartment and Ben set his bag of groceries down on the counter, and when Ben turned to him Ray grabbed him by the wrist and told him "No". 

The look on Ben's face made him feel like he'd just kicked a puppy. Instantly, Ray released his wrist and took a step backwards. 

"You don't have to do this," he said, feeling his chest clench up at the shuttered look that fell across Ben's eyes. He stuttered for a moment before he was able to continue. "I-I mean, maybe you want to watch TV. Go for a walk or something." He shrugged helplessly. 

The misery on Ben's face only deepened. "I understand, Ray." He turned to unpack the groceries, the tension he obviously felt evident only in the taut curve of his spine. 

Ray stared at him, feeling wretched. "Benny..." He stepped up behind Ben, reaching to massage his shoulder lightly. The tense muscles under his hand did not loosen. "It's not that I don't like what you do for me. I love it." He'd be willing to bet there wasn't a soul alive who'd say they didn't like it when Benny was giving head. The thought filled him with a sense of despair. "I'm just saying that ... that there's lots of other things we can be doing, too, you know?" 

"Of course, Ray." Again with the distant, polite Mountie-voice. *Shit.* 

Ray was beginning to panic. He hadn't seen Benny this detached since he'd first come back from San Francisco. It was a huge step backward, when he'd honestly thought that Benny was starting to get better. 

"What do you want to do tonight?" he asked, relentlessly ignoring the cold shoulder Ben was giving him. It was an effort to keep his voice even. "You want to go out for a walk in the park with Dief? Or maybe we can go watch a movie. I think there's a new James Bond film opening up at the Cinemaplex." 

Ben crossed the kitchen to put a can of tomato sauce away in the cupboard, still not looking at him. "Whatever you want, Ray." He seemed to be trying for some kind of levity, which was somehow worse than if he'd been totally disinterested. He gave Ray a quick smile when he came back toward the counter. "Really." 

Goddamn it. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. Ray felt his resolve, such as it had been, snap completely under the weight of those sad blue eyes. 

"If we're gonna make love tonight, we're gonna do it my way this time," he said, hoping that this at least might make some kind of difference. "In bed. All right?" 

Ben nodded, although the strained look didn't leave his eyes. Ray moved forward tentatively to hold him, and Ben opened for his kiss readily enough. Ray was willing to take it slow, to maybe work out some kind of dialogue between them, but Ben wasn't in the mood for talking. He took Ray's hand and urged him gently toward the bedroom, and Ray went, recognizing himself for the coward he was. 

Ben undressed him almost reverently, and Ray caved completely under the soft seduction of kisses and touches that Ben lavished on him. Once again, this wasn't what he'd intended, but he seemed powerless to resist Ben's disturbingly skillful advances. Not without hurting him, anyway, not without making him feel rejected. 

Once Ben got Ray in bed, he proceeded to suck him off eight ways from Sunday. *Point for you, Benny,* Ray thought crazily as he came down off the edge, sobbing his release into the blankets as Ben coaxed the last lingering tremors out of his body. Only after Ray was completely wrung dry did Ben relax enough to let Ray touch him. 

In the morning, after Ray showered and got himself dressed for work, he found himself stealing worried glances at Ben whenever he thought he wasn't looking. He had to go in to work, but it was Ben's day off today, and that was making him inexplicably nervous. 

"You gonna be all right today?" he asked, finishing up his coffee and staring at Ben across the table. Ben had barely touched the breakfast he'd made for them. 

"I'll be fine, Ray." Ben pushed his scrambled eggs around on his plate with his fork and looked up at Ray with a small smile. 

It was almost enough to be convincing, except for the complete lack of expression in his eyes. Ray frowned when it occurred to him that he was afraid to leave Ben alone today. 

"How about I stop in and see you on my lunch hour?" he suggested. It was an effort to keep his voice steady. Ben hadn't fallen into a depression like this since before they'd started sleeping together, and it worried him. 

"Sure, Ray." Ben lowered his gaze again. "If you want to." 

So they were back to this again, were they? *"Yes, Ray"*, *"Of course, Ray"*, *"Whatever you want, Ray"*. The thought made Ray feel suddenly furious, and he stood up abruptly, snatching up his unfinished dish and carrying it over to the sink. 

"I'll be here at noon," he said, uncomfortably aware that the words sounded like a command. He turned on the faucet to rinse his plate into the garbage disposal and made a conscious effort to soften his voice. "Maybe we can take Dief out and eat in the park or something." 

Ben didn't respond, and Ray reluctantly got ready to go. He really couldn't stand the wounded-puppy look in Ben's eyes, and it didn't help matters any to know that he'd been the one to put it there. 

It was beginning to occur to him just how fucked up their relationship actually was. The depression that seemed to have fallen over Ben since last night terrified him. What had he done? He never should have had sex with Ben that first time, should never have taken advantage of him in that way. Now it had all spiraled out of control, and he didn't know how to make things right for either of them. Apparently Ben seemed to feel that his self-worth was inextricably tied to his performance in bed. Was he thinking that Ray didn't love him anymore, didn't want him anymore, just because he'd said that he didn't want to have sex with him? 

But the truth was, Ray *did* want to have sex with him. It was an ache inside him, trying to claw its way out, and it stayed with him all through the morning while he went about the usual motions of doing his job. And it was more than just the sex aspect of it, he realized -- he was in love with Benny. He wanted Benny, wanted to be with him in every way that Ben would allow. It didn't seem to matter any longer what the rest of the world might think of their relationship. He just knew that he loved Benny, and he wanted to erase the lingering pain that still lived inside him in any way he could. 

It was still a daily struggle to fight the urge to hunt Snow down in whatever penitentiary the Feds had secreted him off to and pull payment for that pain out of his hide. With interest. Ray was just glad that the FBI had found enough evidence of Snow's involvement in illegal drug sales and gun running that the charges for rape and illegal prostitution had been secondary. Ray wasn't sure how Ben would have reacted if he'd been forced to appear in court personally to testify against him. 

But even so, Ray couldn't help but feel that it made the whole thing lack a certain kind of closure. Just the thought that some people thought of what had been done to Benny as *secondary* was enough to make him want to commit murder all over again. 

It wasn't entirely a surprise that when he made it back to Benny's place for lunch, they never made it to the park. It was so *hot* to see Ben down on his knees in front of him, naked skin gleaming in the light from the window as he pulled Ray's pants down around his thighs. Ray felt guilty over the pleasure he took from this, but the pleasure was there nonetheless. He knew for a fact that if he ordered Benny to suck him off under his desk at the station house in the middle of the day, he'd do it without a second thought. That feeling of power was heady, exhilarating, terrifying, and heartbreaking all at the same time. 

Ray's legs were still shaking when he went back to work, and he buried himself behind the mound of paperwork on his desk, hoping that no one would notice the telltale signs that he'd just gotten laid. Jesus, he'd never had sex this often in his life. Sex on demand, sex on the merest *suggestion*... He was beginning to think he wasn't going to survive much more of this. He couldn't tell whether the thought made him want to laugh or cry. 

And of course Ben was there to meet him when he got home that evening. Ray was spending all his nights with Benny now, and his family didn't seem to think that was at all strange. Because obviously Benny was hurting, and he needed to have someone there with him, and that someone was obviously going to be Ray. 

If only they knew the real reason Ben wanted him there. The thought filled Ray with a fair amount of bitterness, but as always, that feeling went away as soon as he stepped into Ben's apartment and closed the door behind him, and allowed Ben to draw him further inside. 

At least he'd convinced Ben to stop attacking him as soon as he got inside the door. Ben was quiet while they ate their dinner that night, and Ray could still see signs of the depression that had fallen over him the previous evening. He wished he could have gotten here sooner; he'd gotten home late from work tonight, and the sky outside the windows was dark. Dief was already asleep on the floor by the radiator under the living room window. 

They were cleaning up the dishes together when Ray decided to grab the bull by the horns. 

"Benny," he said, looking at Ben cautiously out of the corner of his eye. "I think we need to talk." 

Ben froze for a moment at that, and the muscles in his jaw tightened. His expression remained impassive, though, as he finished putting the dishes away in the cupboard. 

Ben's silence was frustrating, and Ray turned away for a moment to keep from saying something he knew he'd regret later. That was a tactical error, he realized a moment too late. Before he knew what had hit him, Benny was pressed up against his back, one arm snaking forward around his chest while the other moved down to work on the belt buckle at his waist. 

Ray gave a little shudder and leaned back against him, closing his eyes against the feel of the warm lips nuzzling at his ear. Damn, but Benny always knew how to get to him, and this kind of blitzkrieg kamikaze all-or-nothing assault did it for him every time. Ray knew full well that he should put a stop to this and try to continue their conversation, but he didn't do anything to protest as Ben's hand slid down inside his pants and cupped his awakening erection. 

Apparently Benny didn't feel like talking. 

By the time Ray got to the bed, he could hardly remember his own name. Ben laid him back against the sheets and then proceeded to kiss, touch, suck, and tease him right up to the edge, as if he were chastising him for his refusal the night before. Ray was almost sobbing into the pillow by the time Ben slid up beside him, naked skin against naked skin, and pressed a thin foil packet into his hand. 

Ray froze, trying to surface through the fog of pleasure and need writhing inside his brain. He glanced down, feeling a strange numbness crawl through him even as Ben's hand traced up the inside of his thigh. 

"Benny," he whispered, not knowing what else to say. There couldn't be any question what Ben was asking of him. 

Ben's eyes had that wounded look in them again. "I want you to, Ray. Please." He bent down to kiss Ray on the lips, breathing out softly against his face. 

Still, Ray hesitated, and Ben took the initiative by taking the condom from his nerveless fingers and removing it from its packet. Ray stared at him, unable to breathe as Ben rolled it on over his erection. Ray's hips arched up off the bed involuntarily at the sensation, and he closed his eyes against the sight of Ben's knowing smile. 

"God, Benny," he whispered, but Ben was stroking him through the rubber now, making sure he didn't lose his concentration. Why had Ben decided to offer this to him tonight? Because he wanted to? Or because he felt he had to? Ray could only imagine what it had taken for Ben to offer himself like this, and once again Ray felt like he was being entrusted with something more precious than life itself. 

"I ... I don't want to hurt you, Benny," he said hesitantly. And that was true on so many levels. 

Ben smiled and kissed him again, sliding a leg across Ray's stomach and settling his weight down across his thighs. "Don't worry, Ray. You won't." 

God, he looked incredible up there. All that smooth expanse of skin, flushed dark with arousal. His hair was tousled, and his lips looked pleasantly swollen from kisses; he looked like an angel fallen prey to the sins of the flesh. 

Beautiful. 

Ray's eyes widened when he saw Ben pop the cap off the thin tube in his hands, and his breath caught in his throat all over again as he watched Ben squeeze out a small dollop of clear gel onto his fingers. He gave Ray a quietly smoldering look and then dropped his gaze again, lifting up slightly off Ray's hips so he could reach around behind himself. 

Ray caught his lower lip between his teeth and groaned, long and low. He knew what Ben was doing back there, and the knowledge seared through him with a heat that flickered like wildfire under his skin, burning away the last remnants of his conscience, or his common sense, or whatever else would have convinced him to stop this from happening. He stared as Ben's head tipped back with an expression of sheer rapture on his face, hips flexing slowly as he fucked himself on his own fingers. 

It was like looking into the sun, like staring hard at something that was so bright it burned. But Ray couldn't look away, couldn't look away, and then Ben was drawing up onto his knees, balancing himself on shaky thighs as he reached down to steady the base of Ray's erection. Ray grunted softly, because all of a sudden he was right *there*, pressed tight against that humid heat, and he was shaking, because he couldn't believe this was real, couldn't believe that this was really happening. He had one last moment of sanity, of reason, and then Ben lowered himself slowly, taking Ray's body inside his own. 

Ray squeezed his eyes shut, forgetting how to breathe as that hot sheath moved down over him -- oh God, oh Jesus, he was actually *inside* Benny now -- and Ben's eyes fluttered closed as he let out his breath in a gusting sigh. 

"Benny. God, Benny. *Caro*..." Ray wasn't even aware of the words that clawed their way out from his throat, and he clung hard to Ben's hips with both hands, forcing himself through sheer will not to thrust as that slick heat closed around him. God, it was tight in there, tight and hot and it felt so damned good it was all he could do not to come on the spot. It was nothing like being inside a woman, nothing like anything he'd expected at all. 

"Ray." Ben was breathing hard now, and his voice was shaky. There was a small frown of concentration etched between his brows, and a single droplet of sweat rolled down over his cheek to hang suspended on the edge of his jaw. The sight of it made Ray thirsty. 

And then he started to move, and oh *God*... Ray gasped and arched back against the pillows behind his shoulders, clenching his hands hard around Ben's hips in order to keep himself from thrusting, from taking, even if this was the tightest, hottest place he'd ever been in his entire life, and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to come out again. 

"Ray," Ben said again, drawing it out this time. Ray shuddered, panting harshly and shaking with the effort of holding still, of letting Ben set the pace. He could feel the muscles of Ben's thighs pressing tight against either side of his hips, moving in rhythm with the soft glide of skin that moved over him, around him, over and over again. Ben moved like a dancer, fluid as silk, and Ray stared up at him, mesmerized by the beauty that was Ben caught up in the rhythm of sex. 

It didn't last, of course, even though Ray wanted it to. Ben's cock was hard and leaking, flushed dark with the arousal that colored him straight up to the roots of his hair. He was panting hard now, his eyes wide and dark, and Ray reached up to touch his face, thinking that at this moment, Ben was the most erotic sight he'd ever seen. Ben's eyes closed to slits as he bent forward to kiss Ray's fingers, flicking his tongue out to lick his palm, and that was all it took. Ray came hard with Benny's name all but ripped out of his throat, and the world faded to a single point of hot, white light around him. 

A moment later, Ben was shuddering against him, bending over and grunting hard in his ear. Ray's arms closed around him, feeling the hot flood of Ben's release spurt out across his stomach, and he pulled Ben down to cover his mouth in a kiss, drinking in the last of his cries. 

Ben collapsed against him with a sigh, returning the kiss languidly as Ray rolled them both over onto their sides. He felt his dick fall free of Benny's body, and Ben grunted in what may have been discomfort, curling his arms forward around Ray and snuggling in against his side. Ray pulled off the used condom and tossed it one-handed toward the wastebasket by the wall. 

They were both a mess, but Ray didn't care. He stroked the back of Ben's head and pressed a kiss to the side of his face, feeling as if he were drifting somewhere free of his body, bound only by the warmth of the tender body in his arms. "Love you," he found himself whispering, barely aware of the words as they left his mouth. "*Ti amo*, Benny, *bello* Benny..." 

Ben's arms tightened around him, and he murmured something sleepily in reply. Ray smiled and nuzzled in against his hair, breathing in the rich, sweaty scent of him. 

He was still murmuring softly against Ben's hair as he drifted off to sleep. 

******** 

It was the following evening, after they'd come home from work and were seeing about cooking something for supper, that Ray decided something had to change. It seemed ridiculous that he knew what Ben felt like on the inside now but he still didn't feel comfortable *talking* to him about their relationship. Ben didn't like to talk anymore; he much preferred action, and that action generally took place in bed. 

The memory of last night made Ray's face grow warm with remembered arousal. 

Ben was standing in front of the stove, barefoot in jeans and a loose T-shirt. His hair was tousled, and his skin still had a residual flush to it from the cold air outside. God, he looked like sex incarnate, and Ray had to clear his throat nervously a few times before he was able to speak.

"Benny," he said, pausing in the act of setting the table. "I really do think we need to talk." 

Ben didn't look up from where he was frying hamburger patties over the stove. There was a heartbeat's pause before he answered. "What about, Ray?" His tone was casual, as if he hadn't just seduced Ray out of broaching this same subject the night before. 

Ray sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "You know what, Benny. About this ... this *thing* between us." 

Ben turned off the stove and came toward the table with the frying pan in one hand and a hot plate in the other, dropping a light kiss on Ray's lips in passing. "I'm not sure what there is to talk about." 

Ray had almost forgotten how infuriating Ben could be, when he wanted to be. He watched as Ben went into the kitchen to fetch the rolls off the counter and then tensed when he came up to him again, slipping an arm around his waist and leaning in to nuzzle at his cheek. 

"Come on, Ray." Ben's breath was warm against his skin. "I'm *starving*." 

There were so many ways that statement could be interpreted. But there was no *way* Ray was going to let himself be distracted the way he'd been last night. 

And so Ray chose to interpret the words in the strictest possible sense. "Fine. We'll eat first, then." He took his place at the table reluctantly, trying not to notice the disturbed cast in Ben's eyes as he took the seat across from him. Jesus, what did Ben think he wanted to say to him? 

It turned out to be a quiet dinner, and most of the leftovers ended up going to Dief. Ray cornered Ben before he could move to start washing the dishes, stopping him with a hand on his arm as he moved to stand up from the table. 

"We really do need to talk," Ray said, wishing Ben would trust him. 

Ben's eyes met his briefly and then slid away again. "I don't want to talk, Ray." 

The words hurt, even though Ray knew they shouldn't. Ben obviously trusted him with his body; why couldn't he trust him with his heart? 

A part of him wanted to respect Ben's wishes, to just let go of whatever doubts were stirring in him and go on as they had been, but he knew he couldn't do that. He still couldn't erase the fear that he was *using* Benny, no matter what assertions Ben made to the contrary. At the very least, he needed to know that Ben wanted him for something more than sex. It made Ray feel sleazy, and he never wanted to feel that way around Ben. 

"Benny," he said again, and this time the look Ben gave him was bordering on annoyed. 

"Ray," Ben said back to him, lips twitching slightly as he took a step toward him. Ray scrambled backwards quickly, knowing that if he let Ben get his hands on him, this conversation would be over before it started. 

"No, Benny." Ray held up his hands in a *stop* gesture and backed up another step. "We are not going to do anything tonight unless we talk first." 

Ben's expression went immediately blank, but he took another slow step forward, reaching out to trail his fingers down Ray's cheek. "Are you sure, Ray?" 

Ray shivered under the light caress, knowing all too well what Ben was trying to do. Very deliberately, he pulled Ben's hands away from his body before he could succumb to temptation. 

"Ben," he said, realizing too late that the agitation he felt sounded too much like anger. "Sit *down*." 

Ben stared at him with wide eyes, and Ray realized with a sick feeling that Ben would have heard the words as a command. Which they were, but Ray hadn't meant it *that way*. He didn't think of Ben like that, like he was property to be ordered around, but he could tell by the sudden uncertainty in Ben's eyes that Ben didn't feel sure of that, even after all this time. 

*Shit.* 

Ray was shaking now, but he refused to back down. The only other alternative was to apologize and let Ben take him into the bedroom, and that wasn't going to do either of them a bit of good. Last night had broken something in him, and he couldn't pretend anymore that he was okay with this ... arrangement between them. Not even for Benny. 

Ben obeyed him slowly, not taking his eyes off him, and sat down in one of the living room chairs. Ray sat down in the chair across from him, trying to ignore the bad taste in the back of his mouth. Ben's sudden wariness was heartbreaking, but Ray didn't know how else to get him talking again. And they *did* need to talk; he knew that much. He couldn't stand seeing Ben look so uncertain of himself, of their relationship. But taking refuge in sex was not the answer. 

So yes, they definitely needed to talk. But now that he had an audience, what the hell did he want to say to him? 

Ray wiped his damp palms nervously across the top of his thighs. "First off," he said, "I want you to know that I love you." He was hoping for some kind of a reaction to that, but Ben just kept staring at him with that shell-shocked expression, sitting stiffly in his chair. Ray sighed, feeling like he was speaking in a foreign language. He ran a hand back over his hair. 

"I don't have to keep having sex with you to keep loving you," he insisted, figuring that this was basic truth he wanted to impart. "I wish you'd understand that. It's not ... it's not about that for me." It felt like there wasn't anything *but* sex to their relationship anymore, and that was the biggest thing that was bothering him. He just didn't know if Ben got the fact that he wanted more than that from him. 

Still nothing. Ben might as well have been a statue. 

Ray wasn't quite able to keep the frustration out of his voice as he continued, "I feel like I've been using you, like you feel you have some kind of obligation to me. It makes me feel like I'm not really any better than those guys who took advantage of you in San Francisco." 

Ah, now that at least provoked a reaction. Ben looked horrified that he'd even think it. "No, Ray," he said, looking pained. "You're not like that at all." 

Ray shook his head, feeling suddenly depressed. "I don't know what to think anymore," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I miss the old you, Benny. I miss the way it used to be between us, before all this happened. I just ... I just want it all to go back to the way things were." 

Ben was shaking now, and his distress was growing more and more evident as the seconds slipped by. The quiet pleading in his eyes was painful to see, but Ray pressed on regardless. He knew Ben needed to hear this just as much as he needed to say it. 

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, wishing he could reach out and touch Ben, hold him, but not daring. "But I don't know what to do anymore. It's all grown so far out of control. I can't keep doing this, living like this, and I love you more than anything, Benny, but I don't know how to help you anymore." 

He finally ran out of words, and Ben stood up stiffly, without meeting his eyes. "I think I understand, Ray." 

Ray felt a stab of guilt, of fear, as Ben reached for his coat and shrugged into it, still keeping his eyes downcast. "Benny..." he said, but Ben ignored him as he went to fetch his shoes. Ray's heart was pounding; he'd *said* he was still in love with Benny, hadn't he? He'd only meant to imply that they had to back off, slow it down a little, but apparently the only thing Ben had heard was that Ray didn't want to have sex with him anymore. And Ray already knew he didn't take rejection well. 

"Benny, listen to me," he said, but it seemed that Ben was done with listening for the time being.

"It's all right, Ray. I understand." Ben's tone was cold and somehow lost at the same time. "I just ... I just need to be alone right now." 

*Shit.* Ray watched him go, feeling frozen, not knowing what to do. A part of him wanted to just *order* Ben to get his ass back in here and talk to him, but he felt instinctively that that would be a very bad idea right now. 

Ben left without a backwards glance, firmly closing the door behind him to keep Dief inside. Ray put his head in his hands once he was gone, feeling the numbness of shock move through him. Impossibly, he was hard -- his cock had gotten strictly Pavlovian over the past few weeks, and it was still waiting for its nightly dose of Benny. The thought sickened him. 

What was he supposed to do? Run after Ben and demand to know where he was going? What if Ben did just need to be alone for a while, to walk, to think about what Ray had told him? 

It occurred to him suddenly that Ben needed sex to feel good about himself anymore, and Ray had just refused him. The thought seemed suddenly ominous, and Ray cursed low under his breath, earning a quizzical look from Dief. Was Ben out there right now looking for someone to have sex with, to give him that feeling of self-worth that Ray had denied him, to master him in the way that Ray was patently incapable of doing? 

Suddenly terrified, Ray snatched up his coat and bolted for the door. It was cold outside -- there'd be snow on the ground before too much longer -- but he barely noticed it as he jogged down the stairs and out the front door of the building, heading toward the Riv with Dief at his heels. He knew perfectly well what a temptation Benny would be to some of the people in this city. An endless parade of nightmare images paraded across his mind in vivid Techno-color surround sound stereo as he peeled away from the curb: Benny being hurt, being forced, that beautiful face twisting in pain as those blue eyes closed, turning empty, the light in them fading, dying... 

*My fault.* Ray was the one who had started this whole fucked-up chain of events in motion. He'd known from the start that Benny was damaged from what had happened to him in California, and Ray'd gone ahead and started a sexual relationship with him anyway. Sure, it had seemed to help Benny at first, given him some measure of his former confidence back, but then it had turned into an addiction. For both of them, Ray realized now. Ben had needed the constant reassurance that being good at sex gave him, and Ray had needed Benny. His motivations didn't matter. He was responsible for everything that happened to Benny now. 

He finally found Ben walking hunched over with his hands in his coat pockets at the side of the street about a mile away from the apartment. Ray pulled up beside him with a feeling of profound relief, feeling as if he'd just been granted a reprieve from a sentence on death row. 

"Benny!" 

Ben stared at him with huge, startled eyes and stumbled back a pace, obviously surprised to see him. He looked wary again, and that made Ray flinch away from him reflexively, not wanting Benny to look at him like that, ever. Did he honestly think Ray was going to hurt him? The thought made him ache inside. 

"Come home, Benny," he said pleadingly. His breath fogged thickly in the air in front of him. "*Please*." 

He knew it would only be a matter of time before Ben went looking for other people to fill the void Ray had left, even if he hadn't been planning to do so tonight. The thought filled him with a feeling of helplessness that was tinged by equal parts jealousy and terror. He knew what type of people Ben would eventually be drawn to, and the thought infuriated him, even though he knew it wasn't Benny's fault. 

Still Ben hesitated, and Ray's hand clenched so hard over the top of the steering wheel his knuckles began to ache. "Please," he said again, keeping his voice low. "I'm ... I'm not ordering you, and if you really want to leave, then I won't force you. That's not what I'm here for, that's not what our relationship's about. We don't have to talk anymore if you don't want to, but *please*, Ben. Come home." 

He waited then, not knowing what he'd do if Ben decided to keep walking, but Ben finally sighed and nodded, moving around to the passenger side of the car. Dief let out a happy whine in the back seat, and Ray clenched his jaw against the feeling of exhilaration that soared through him as he drove them back toward Racine. 

Once they were back inside, Ray hung up his coat and went into the kitchen to make some tea. He usually couldn't stand the stuff, but he could really use something to calm him down right about now. He glanced back to see Ben sitting in a chair in the living room with Dief's head in his lap. Ben was petting the wolf's fur absently, and while he didn't look happy, at least he didn't look like he was getting ready to freak out again. 

Ray poured two cups of tea when it was ready and carried them into the living room. Ben didn't look up as he accepted the cup Ray handed him, but he murmured quiet thanks as he lifted it to his lips and blew gently across the surface. 

They sat for a moment in a silence that neither one of them seemed willing to break. 

"What do you want from me, Benny?" Ray asked finally, tentatively testing the conversational waters. 

He felt encouraged when Ben looked curiously up at him, so he continued, "I just got finished explaining what *I* want out of this relationship, but I'm still completely clueless about what you expect to get out of it." Against his will, his voice began to take on a bit more intensity as his emotions kicked in again. "Do you just want to have sex with me? Is that what this is all about?" He swallowed hard, but the question needed asking. "Do you want me to hurt you?" 

"No," Ben said quietly in response to that question, lowering his gaze again. 

"Then what?" Ray really wanted to know. "Because I'm beginning to feel like I'm *your* whore here, Benny." 

Apparently that was enough to shock Ben into speaking. "I'm not ... not really sure what I want, Ray." It was obvious that the honesty was costing him. 

"You're confused," Ray guessed, and Ben nodded, looking miserable. He hadn't liked talking about his feelings, even before all this had started. But at least they were talking now; that had to be a good thing. "Well, how about you try going back to one-word answers. How do you feel right now?" 

Ben seemed to consider the question seriously. "Lost," he said after a moment. And then, "Scared." His hand was shaking where it held onto his teacup. 

Ray closed his eyes briefly. Yeah, he could see that. "Lost," he echoed, hoping that Ben would take the hint and keep going. 

Much to his surprise, Ben did. "I feel like I lost myself," he said, staring down at Dief's head in his lap. He smoothed a hand over the wolf's ears absently. "And I don't know how to find myself again. I don't know who I *am* anymore." The raw pain in his voice was excruciating to hear. "The only time I feel at all sane anymore is when I'm with you. And the only time I feel halfway normal again is when I ... when I'm giving you pleasure." His cheeks colored when he said it. 

"Ah, jeez, Benny." Ray felt like there was a gaping hole in the middle of his chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. "It doesn't have to be like that." 

And then, even though he'd promised himself he wouldn't, he set his tea down and moved forward to kneel in front of Ben, reaching for him and pulling him into an embrace. It seemed to be the right thing to do, though, because Ben all but collapsed against him, burrowing in against the side of his neck with a shuddering sigh. Ray held him tightly and kissed him on the side of the face. 

"I love you, Benny. You know that, right? Anything else ... we'll deal with." 

Ben sniffed hard at that and seemed to freeze up entirely for an interminable moment. Then his resistance finally shattered, and he pressed his face against Ray's neck with a low, snuffling moan before the tears began to overtake him in earnest. Ray held onto him tightly, rocking him and murmuring softly in his ear. Ben hadn't cried like this since the first night they'd made love together, and he figured it was a long time coming. 

After a few minutes, the storm passed. 

"Let me make an appointment for you with Dr. Angelo," Ray offered tentatively, stroking a hand down the back of Ben's neck. Ben shivered and pressed closer against him. "I'll go with you if you want." 

Ben hesitated, then nodded, and Ray felt as if a steel band wound tight around his chest had suddenly been released. He blinked back sudden tears and kissed Ben again on the side of the face. 

"First thing in the morning," he promised, and it seemed like a miracle when Ben just nodded again. He was limp in Ray's arms, almost a dead weight from exhaustion, and Ray urged him up to his feet with an effort. "Let's get you ready for bed," he said, and then stopped, feeling suddenly uncertain. He quickly added, "I won't ... I won't stay unless you want me to." 

The look in Ben's eyes was subdued. "I want you to, Ray." 

Ray still felt unsure, but he really didn't want to leave Ben alone after everything they'd talked about this evening. He kept his touches deliberately impersonal as he turned Ben toward the bedroom and helped him undress. After a moment's hesitation, he shrugged out of his own clothes as well, stacking them in the corner of the bedroom while Ben burrowed under the covers and watched him with narrowed eyes. His expression was unreadable. 

Ray paused at the side of the bed, looking down at him. "You still want me here?" he asked, feeling uncomfortable. Ben looked like a little kid buried underneath all those blankets, not certain whether he was going to be hit or hugged. 

Ben nodded and moved back to make room for him, and Ray slithered under the covers, settling tentatively on his side. The bed was already warm from Ben's heat, and Ray sank into it with a sigh. 

"Ray?" Ben said uncertainly, and Ray hushed him with a light kiss on the lips, sliding an arm around his waist. Ben's skin felt warm and smooth under the fabric of his T-shirt, but Ray didn't feel a desire for anything more than this kind of closeness between them. 

"Good night, Benny." 

It took a few minutes, but finally, Ben began to relax against him. Ray hid his smile in Ben's hair, realizing that this was the first time they'd ever slept in the same bed together without having sex first. It felt even better than he'd thought it would. 

For the first time in too long, he began to think that things might actually turn out all right for them after all.


	5. The Journey Home

The lobby outside Dr. Angelo's office was a roughly square room with soothing beige walls and rather expensive-looking art deco sculptures in the corners. Ben clearly remembered the first time he'd come here almost two months ago. It didn't look as if anything had changed in the intervening weeks. 

There was even the same receptionist sitting behind the counter, a pretty dark-haired girl with unusually dark green eyes. She looked up at him with a smile when he signed himself in, and told him that Dr. Angelo would be with him in a moment. He thanked her kindly and went to sit by Ray in front of the window. 

They were on the fifth floor of the office building, which meant he had a fairly decent bird's eye view of the street outside. Last time he'd been here, the sight had been soothing, but now the distance made him feel faintly nervous. 

"It'll be all right," Ray said softly, giving him an encouraging smile. He reached for Ben's hand and squeezed it briefly before withdrawing. 

Ben felt encouraged by Ray's support. There was no way he would have had the courage to come back here without him, and he knew he wouldn't have considered coming back at all if Ray hadn't pressed the matter so forcefully. He still wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be here, but he'd promised Ray that he would try. 

And Ray loved him. *Loved* him. Had said he loved him. That was something Ben was still trying to wrap his brain around, even after all these weeks. 

Again, Ray reached for his hand and squeezed it, as if he had a subliminal radar that told him when Ben was freaking out again. "It'll be all right," he repeated, and this time, he smoothed his thumb over the back of Ben's hand. The caress made Ben shiver slightly. 

The door to the inner office opened then, and Ray dropped his hand away. Ben looked up to see Dr. Angelo saying good-bye to one of his other clients, a petite, blond-haired woman with expensive taste in clothes. Angelo was a tall man with dark blond hair and a short beard, not much older than Ben himself was. Today, he was dressed in a light tan suit. 

"Ben?" Angelo glanced over at them once the woman was gone, and Ben rose hurriedly to his feet. He felt encouraged when Ray stood up to stand beside him. 

"Hello, Dr. Angelo." He walked up to the office door and glanced back to make sure Ray was following him. "This is my friend, Ray Vecchio. I want ... I mean, I invited him to sit in with me today." 

Angelo nodded without missing a beat. "Of course he's welcome to do so." He smiled at Ray and shook his hand. "Why don't both of you come in and have a seat?" 

Ben let his breath out in a short sigh of relief. He wasn't sure why he'd expected Ray's presence to be a problem, except that he seemed to be looking for problems everywhere he turned lately. Ray squeezed his shoulder gently and gave him another encouraging smile before following him into the office. 

Angelo shut the door behind them and moved to take his seat behind the large, cherry wood desk that dominated the room. Ray glanced around at the room curiously. 

"What, no couch?" he said, grinning wryly. 

Angelo chuckled. "I'm afraid not. Although we do have one in the lounge by the cafeteria, if that makes you feel any better." More seriously, he added, "I prefer to have eye-to-eye-contact with the people who come to talk to me." 

"Yeah." Ray sounded more serious now, too. "Yeah, I can see that." 

There was a few moments' silence while Angelo skimmed through the file on his desk, and then he looked up again. "Vecchio? You're the police officer who flew out to bring Ben home from San Francisco." 

"Yeah." Ray shifted slightly in his chair. "That was me." 

Angelo nodded thoughtfully. "It's good to know that Ben has such a loyal friend to help him get through this." 

Ben took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. He made up his mind abruptly and reached across the space between their two chairs to grab Ray's hand. He could feel Ray's startled gaze on him, but Ray's fingers tightened immediately around his, accepting whatever decision he made. 

"Ray is more than my friend," Ben said, meeting Angelo's gaze steadily. "We're..." 

"Lovers," Ray supplied for him when he faltered. Ben felt his cheeks grow warm at that, but he nodded agreement. Ray's thumb stroked across the back of his hand soothingly. 

Angelo nodded. "I see." He sounded completely nonjudgmental. "Is this a relatively new development, or were you lovers before you were taken to San Francisco?" 

Ben swallowed thickly. "It's ... new," he said. Ray's hand on his was a lifeline. Talking about these things with *Ray* was bad enough; discussing them with a relative stranger was excruciating. 

"Have you talked to Ray about what happened to you in San Francisco?" 

Ben took another deep breath. Ray was quiet beside him, letting him say what he wanted at his own pace. "I haven't seen much of a reason to talk about anything. It's all over and done with." 

Angelo regarded him calmly. "Is it?" 

The question caught Ben off guard. "Of course it is." 

Angelo steepled his fingers in front of his face and seemed to think carefully about what he was going to say next. "I was worried about you when you left my office that last time, Ben." He held up a hand, sensing Ben's reflexive protest before he made it. "Oh, you're good at *pretending* you're perfectly in control of things, I'll grant you that. As a matter of fact, I'd say you've got the pretending part down pat. Being in control is very important to you, isn't it?" 

Ben stared at him, feeling as if he'd just been gutted open. "I suppose so." 

"And how did you ensure that you remained in control of things when you were in San Francisco?" 

For a moment, Ben couldn't even think how to answer that question. He hadn't been in control of *anything* ever since he left the Duval house. Wasn't that the whole point? 

Angelo waited patiently, giving him the time he needed to think things through. Ray tightened his grip briefly on Ben's hand, offering him support, offering him encouragement, offering him love. 

Ben closed his eyes for a moment to steel himself. He could say this; he *could*. 

"I suppose I ... I used sex to ... to keep control of the situation." 

Angelo's expression remained comfortingly mild. "And how did sex help you feel in control?" 

"I'm not exactly sure." Ben bowed his head slightly, fighting against the memory of those first harrowing days in Snow's residence. He'd fought like a wild thing at first, refusing to give in to what they demanded of him, but in the end his exertions had proved futile. They always won in the end, holding him down, laughing, taking enjoyment in his humiliation and pain. 

Then he'd realized that it didn't have to be that way. Snow was willing to give him to clients who didn't want to hurt him, if only he ... behaved. He'd rejected the idea violently at first, but the knowledge had been a constant presence in the back of his mind as they raped him, chipping away at his resolve. It hadn't taken him long at all to decide to take control over the situation in the only way he knew how. 

"As long as I ... I could please them in bed, I knew they wouldn't hurt me." 

The admission made his cheeks flame. He had sold himself in order to hold onto his sanity, and now, with the benefit of hindsight, he couldn't help but think that perhaps the price had been too high. Because how could Ray ever love him now, knowing what he'd done? Ray was the kindest, most compassionate soul he knew, and he'd offered him everything he had from the moment they'd met. Sooner or later, he was going to get tired of Ben always asking, always *needing*, and then he'd be gone. 

"Oh, Benny," Ray sighed. He sounded sad. Ben wondered what he was thinking, if maybe he was regretting the things that had happened between them even now. 

There was no way he could speak that fear aloud. But Angelo seemed to understand regardless. "Is that why you decided to start a sexual relationship with Ray? So you could feel in control again?" 

"No!" The vehemence in his voice startled him. Backpedaling hurriedly, he said, "I mean, I ... I don't think so." Why did everything have to be so confusing? It was frustrating, not knowing his own mind. 

He took yet another fortifying breath. "I love Ray." That much he could say with certainty. "I've ... been in love with him for a long time. It was something I had to work to keep hidden, before all this happened. I was afraid of what he'd think if he found out about how I felt." 

That earned him a surprised glance from Ray. "You never told me that." 

No, he hadn't. He hadn't been very forthcoming about much of anything lately, it seemed. "I'm sorry, Ray," he said, lowering his gaze. 

Angelo regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before turning to Ray. "Detective Vecchio, how do you feel about this new change in your relationship with Ben?" 

"It was a, uh, surprise." Ray coughed lightly. "I'd never ... I mean I haven't..." Now it was his turn to grope for words. 

Angelo apparently decided to take pity on him. "This is your first sexual relationship with another man?" 

"Yeah." Ray's cheeks were turning pink now, and Ben squeezed his hand comfortingly. Ray gave him a grateful glance. 

"Being a man involved in a gay relationship is a difficult path to choose," Angelo said carefully. "Especially for a police officer." 

"I guess so." Ray sounded less uncertain now. "But it doesn't really matter. I mean, I love Benny." He shrugged. "What else is there to know?" 

Angelo frowned slightly. "I'm afraid it isn't as easy as that. Ben's been through a very difficult situation, and he's going to need someone strong to help him until he comes to terms with it." 

Ray held Angelo's gaze evenly, straightening. "I can do that," he said firmly. 

The certainty in Ray's voice made Ben have to blink back sudden tears. Ray still wanted him. Still loved him. And he was apparently willing to put up with Ben's neediness for at least a little while longer. 

Angelo's gaze softened. "That's good to hear. Because it's going to take a lot of effort on both your parts if you're going to make this relationship work. You have a lot of things stacked against you." 

"It's worth it." Ray didn't even have to stop and think about that at all. 

"Good." Angelo nodded seriously, shifting his gaze to Ben. "How about it, Ben? Is this something you're willing to work at?" 

Ben realized suddenly that Angelo was asking him the same question he'd just asked Ray. *Was* he willing to work at this? Was he willing to admit that he wasn't as invulnerable as he liked to believe he was, and that maybe he needed help to work this thing through? 

Was Ray worth that much to him? 

"Yes," he said, without hesitation. 

"All right, then." Angelo seemed pleased. "It looks like we might have something to work with here after all, then." 

Ben turned to see Ray looking at him with a quietly triumphant gaze, and when he smiled, it seemed to light up the entire room. Ben returned the smile, tightening his grip on Ray's hand. They were going to do this; they were going to make this work. 

For the first time, he actually believed it was true. 

******** 

Things settled into a bit of a pattern for them then. Ben met with Dr. Angelo twice a week, once on his own and once with Ray. Ray was also meeting with Dr. Angelo alone once a week, because it seemed Ray had some issues of his own to work through, and Ben hadn't even realized. Apparently he'd almost run himself into the ground trying to track Ben down when he'd disappeared, and he still harbored a fair amount of guilt that he hadn't found him sooner. 

Sex was something they didn't indulge in anymore, now that Ben had successfully identified it as the escape it was. At Dr. Angelo's suggestion, they indulged in a lot of non-sexual touching, though, and Ben discovered to his delight that Ray gave the most incredible backrubs he'd ever had. 

There were surprises, too. Like the night he'd gone over to the Vecchio house for dinner, and Ray asked his permission to tell his family about them. 

"I don't want to hide anymore," Ray had told him. "I love you, and I want the people who care about us to know that." 

It seemed like such an irrevocable step to Ben, but Ray was adamant in his desire to go through with it. Ben had agreed, feeling hesitant, but if Ray was willing to take this risk, then so was he. 

And so after dinner that night, Ray pulled his mother aside and told her he was in love with Ben. That was exactly how he'd phrased it, too -- not "I'm gay" or "I'm having sex with Benny". He was in love. To Ben, that seemed strangely significant, and he realized suddenly that it didn't matter if Ray's mother approved of their relationship or not. Ray was in love with him, and that was the only thing that mattered. Maybe it was the only thing that would ever matter. 

Mrs. Vecchio had accepted the news with a fair amount of reservation, but in the end she had given them her blessing. Ben was already like a member of the family, she said, and if her son had to choose this kind of lifestyle, then at least he'd chosen someone who cared about him honestly in return. 

The rest of the family took the news surprisingly well once it became evident that they had Mrs. Vecchio's approval. Frannie, predictably, reacted less than favorably to the discovery that her brother had "stolen Ben out from under her nose", but in the end even she had come around, and told them she was happy for them. 

Life went on. There were relapses, of course, when Ben found himself on the verge of panic at the thought that Ray didn't want to have sex with him, and without that to bind Ray to him he'd never be able to convince him to stay. There were days when he would have given his life for a gesture of physical affection, but Ray always just turned him down gently at those times, and told him he loved him, and held him until the bad feelings went away. 

They still slept together. After the discussion with his family, Ray had officially moved in with him. The first thing Ben did to celebrate the occasion was to go out and buy a bigger bed, and Ray brought over a bunch of furniture that he thought he'd need from his house. They'd spent an entire afternoon moving everything in, with help from Ray's family, and it was perhaps the single most wonderful afternoon that Ben had ever known. 

Ray was going to live with him. *Wanted* to live with him. Had told his family about them. 

Ray loved him. 

It was getting easier to believe it now, and the insistent voice in the back of his mind that kept insisting he wasn't good enough for Ray had fallen thankfully silent. How could he possibly doubt Ray's love for him, when Ray took such care to convince him of it in so many wonderful ways? 

He had a bit of a panic when it came time to go in for the confirmation on his HIV test. Snow had always insisted that his customers use protection when they sampled his wares, but even so, Ben found the whole experience of the blood test distasteful. He didn't like being reminded of what had been done to him, but Ray stayed with him through all of it. They had a rather frantic week waiting for the test results to come in, and when they finally came back negative, Ben was the one who had to hold Ray while he cried. 

Through everything, Ray was there for him. Ben wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve that kind of loyalty, but he wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world. 

After all this time, he felt that he was finally -- *finally* -- finding his way home. 

******** 

Ben signed his name to the last of the forms on his desk and reached for his hat. The sunlight was pale with evening's advance outside his office window, and a quick glance at the clock showed him that Ray would be here to pick him up any minute. 

He put the signed forms in the outbox for Inspector Thatcher's perusal the next morning and made sure the door was locked behind him when he left the room. He could hear voices in the front lobby now -- Turnbull's impeccably polite tones mingling easily with Ray's familiar cadences. Ben smiled, feeling a spreading warmth move through him at the sheer normality of it. 

Turnbull was busy sweeping away the last of the day's accumulation of dirt from the main floor when Ben stepped into the lobby. Ray was sitting on the edge of the front reception desk, swinging his muffler casually over the fingers of one hand while he regaled Turnbull with the more sordid details of the latest case he and Ben had been working on. 

Diefenbaker slipped past Ben's legs and moved straight toward Ray with a low whine of greeting. Ray turned to him and dropped down to a low crouch on the floor as the wolf approached, ruffling the scruff of fur behind his neck with obvious affection. 

"Hey, boy. How you doin'?" Ray looked up and met Ben's gaze with a brilliant smile. "You ready to hit the road?" 

"Yes, Ray." Ben said his good-nights to Turnbull and put his hat on as they stepped out the door.

A layer of new snow covered the ground from the brief flurry just that afternoon, and the Chicago street looked almost ethereal in the fading sunlight. Ben looked around with a feeling of vast contentment, breathing in deeply. The city air smelled unusually crisp and clear, as if it had been scrubbed clean somehow by the snowfall. 

"Pretty, isn't it?" Ray said, pausing bedside him at the top of the stairs to tuck his scarf in under the collar of his coat. 

Ben nodded, watching his breath turn to smoke in the cold air. "Yes. It is." 

Ray hunched his shoulders slightly as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. "Well, I've been thinkin'," he said, in a tone of voice that was so casual it immediately caught Ben's attention. He glanced at Ben sideways out of the corner of one eye. "I was thinking maybe we should try taking another crack at going up north and rebuilding your dad's cabin." When he realized Ben was looking at him, he shrugged, looking self-conscious. "I'm not sayin' we should pack up and go in the middle of winter or anything. Just, you know ... in the spring, maybe. If you wanted to." 

Ben stared at him, feeling a spreading warmth move through him. "I'd like that very much, Ray," he said, meaning it. 

Ray gave him another of those forty-gigawatt smiles. "Well, okay then." 

Diefenbaker was waiting for them at the side of the road, making new tracks through the new-fallen snow. He seemed reluctant to get in the car when Ray opened the door for him, but he went without too much of a fuss. 

"Maybe we can take him to the park tomorrow," Ben suggested as he slid into his seat. As a rare miracle, both he and Ray had the next couple of days off. 

"Yeah. That sounds good." Ray seemed honestly pleased with the idea. 

They drove home in a companionable silence that was broken only by Dief's happy panting in the backseat. They took him for a quick walk around the block before going inside, and Ben found himself walking very close to Ray, almost shoulder-to-shoulder. Neither one of them seemed to mind. 

There were leftovers in the fridge for dinner, which Ben was grateful for. He didn't feel like spending a lot of time cooking tonight. He set the table while Ray threw the half-eaten lasagna pan into the oven to heat, and before long they were sitting down at the table to eat. 

Ray carried the bulk of the conversation through dinner. Ben felt oddly restless, and the feeling carried through dinner and dishes and into the quiet part of the evening that followed. He sat curled up on the couch next to Ray, covered in a soft blanket, while Ray flipped idly through the channels on the TV Ben found he no longer really wanted. It was enough, really, to just be here with Ray, surrounded by his heat, by his scent, by the comfortingly solid strength of his arms. 

"Something on your mind tonight, Benny?" Ray asked, without looking away from the TV. The question was asked casually, and Ben knew he wasn't pushing. 

But, just that simply, Ben knew what it was he wanted. Leaning in to nuzzle against Ray's cheek, he lowered his voice and said, "Make love with me tonight." 

Ray didn't react for a handful of seconds. Then he turned to look Ben in the eye. "You're sure you want that?" His voice was serious. 

Ben swallowed hard but refused to look away. He nodded. "Yes, Ray." 

He knew perfectly well what a mess he'd made of their sex lives at the start of their relationship, and it was true that he'd made several backward slides into that kind of clinging addiction again over the past couple of months. So he could understand Ray's caution now, even if it was unnecessary. He knew what he wanted, and it had nothing to do with fear or feeling like he wasn't in control. He just wanted Ray, and he wanted to love him in any way that Ray would allow him. 

Ray's hand lifted to brush Ben's hair back behind his ear, and it lingered there, stroking a thumb up over the ridge of his eye. "I wouldn't want you to ask me for that unless you were really, really sure, Benny." His voice was thick, as if he were having trouble getting the words out. 

Ben smiled and nuzzled forward against Ray's hand, pressing his lips briefly against the skin of his palm. "I'm sure, Ray." 

Ray hesitated for a moment longer, then lowered his gaze to look at Ben's mouth. Ben smiled, knowing what Ray was going to do an instant before he leaned in to kiss him. It was a light kiss, tentatively exploring territory that had been well-investigated over the past month or so. Kissing was as far as they'd gone lately, and immediately, Ben knew that it wasn't going to be enough for him tonight. He leaned into the kiss with a low murmur of contentment and parted his lips, encouraging Ray to deepen it. 

Ray's hand slid up to his shoulder and squeezed him through the thin material of his Henley. Ben was all but sprawled across him now, lounging half on top of that slim body as Ray languorously, painstakingly, made love to his mouth. 

Ben was breathless when Ray finally pulled away from him. He looked at Ray through lidded eyes, seeing the deepened duskiness in those wide green eyes, proof of Ray's desire for him. 

Ray looked at him for a moment more and then nodded. "I love you, Benny," he said, as if this were the most important thing he'd ever said. Or ever would. He reached up to touch Ben's cheek again, as if he couldn't keep his hands away. 

Ben leaned forward and brushed their lips together again, just barely touching. "I love you, too," he murmured. 

Ray closed his eyes and seemed to melt against him, and Ben kissed him again, feeling the surrender in the way Ray's body moved against him. The knowledge that they were going to make love tonight filled him with a wild joy that seemed to flutter inside his chest like a trapped bird. It seemed suddenly impossible that he could ever get enough of touching Ray, of tasting him, of feeling the warm strength of his fingers trailing across his skin. 

Ray was unfailingly gentle with him as they moved into the bedroom. Despite the chill outside, it was warm inside the apartment, and they shed their clothes with little fanfare. Ben found that he couldn't keep his hands off Ray's skin once it had been revealed to him, and he mouthed hungrily at the smooth curve of Ray's shoulder as they fell onto the bed together, savoring the low murmur of the sounds Ray made in reply. 

He wasn't entirely sure who was making love to whom, or even if there was a dominant partner in the slow glide of bodies that started up as soon as they were both horizontal beneath the sheets. It was a new experience for him, this kind of easy sensuality, both giving and taking in equal measure, and he fell into it eagerly, knowing only that he wanted more, needed more. 

"Shh, Benny," Ray murmured to him, stroking a hand down the middle of his back. Ben shivered under the caress like a startled colt and reached for Ray's mouth blindly, wanting to taste him. 

He didn't object when Ray rolled him over onto his back, and he spread his thighs so Ray's hips could fit more easily against him. The resultant slide of skin on skin made him and Ray both gasp in unison, and Ray chuckled against Ben's shoulder shakily, licking lightly at his skin. 

"Easy," Ray said, sliding a hand down Ben's arm this time to soothe him. He gave an experimental stroke of his hips and breathed out hard against the side of Ben's face. "*Anima mia*," he whispered. "I've got you." 

Ben finally gave in and just relaxed, letting his head fall back against the pillow. Ray's hips were gliding between his thighs now, pressing their erections together, and Ben rested his hands on Ray's lower back to urge him to continue, humming lightly against his skin. 

"Oh, Benny." Ray's voice was hoarse now, and yeah, Ben had noticed in the past that Ray got a little vocal during sex, but it never ceased to make him smile. Seeing Ray this way was better than anything else he could imagine, and he nuzzled at the delicate line of Ray's collarbone, lapping the sweat from the hollow of his throat in passing. 

Ray's breath hitched, and he tensed, digging his fingers into Ben's arms. His body was all but singing now, and Ben rushed to join it, feeling the rising warmth pool deep in the pit of his belly. His thighs were shaking where they cupped Ray's hips, but he pressed his feet flat against the mattress beneath him, canting his hips up to meet Ray's thrusts, wanting to feel that delightful friction against him. Sex with Ray was like nothing else he'd ever experienced; even in the early part of their relationship, when it had grown into an addiction for him, he'd never once lost sight of who it was in bed with him. 

He was almost wild with it now, and he gasped rhythmically against Ray's hair, barely aware of anything aside from the swift slide of Ray's skin against his own. He seemed to hover on the edge forever before Ray suddenly tensed again within his arms, shouting Ben's name hoarsely, and the hot flood of his release between their bodies was all it took to finally, finally push Ben over the edge. 

Ben cried out sharply as his orgasm suddenly uncoiled and lashed free inside him, and the fire seemed to sear through him from his toes straight through to the roots of his hair. Ray's hands still had a death grip on his arms, and they slid onto their sides almost without thought, arms and legs sliding together until they were nothing but a sweaty, sticky tangle of warm limbs and satiated flesh. 

"So beautiful," Ray whispered to him, kissing his hair, his face, the curve of his jaw. "So beautiful, Benny. God. You have no idea." 

"Ray," Ben said, unable to think of anything else to say. His brain was still buzzing with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and he curled in against Ray's side, wanting only to hold him, and be held by him in return. 

"I love you," Ray murmured sleepily, tightening his arms around him. 

And Ben knew that it was true. 

******** 

Afterward, while they lay together in the darkness, Ben stared up at the patterns the streetlights made over the ceiling and ran his fingers lightly over the curve of Ray's spine. Ray hmmmmed and pressed closer against him, snuggling his head further down against Ben's chest. 

"Feels good," he murmured. He sounded sleepy and happy at the same time. 

Ben smiled. Snow was falling in a fragile curtain outside their window now, blanketing the room in silver shadows. A low sound from the living room told him that Dief was chasing rabbits in his dreams. Or perhaps he was pursuing malfeasants through the streets of downtown Chicago. 

Ben couldn't remember ever feeling this degree of contentment before, like everything that could possibly matter had finally gone right with his world. The memory of their lovemaking still burned bright in his mind, and he realized suddenly what it meant that Ray would trust him this way. He wasn't naive enough to think that he could ever again be the person he was before he'd been taken away to San Francisco, but he felt confident that he'd been able to reclaim the majority of what he'd lost. 

And Ray loved him. There were no doubts attached to that thought at all now in his mind. Ray loved him, and Ray wanted him, and Ray trusted him. It was a heady realization. Ben felt like he was learning how to love all over again, and he knew that in this, he could find no better teacher.

He bent down to kiss Ray on top of the head, and Ray smiled up at him, looking like he was all eyes in the darkness. Ben's heart swelled with love for him, and he couldn't resist the urge to kiss him again, on the nose, and then again, angling for that wonderfully expressive mouth. 

"I love you," he whispered, brushing his lips lightly across Ray's. Ray's arms tightened around him. 

"I love you, too," Ray said seriously. He leaned up to give Ben another kiss, as if he couldn't get enough of him. "Always love you." 

Ben hugged him tightly, letting the truth of the words flow through him. They were facing their challenges one day at a time, but the important thing was, they were facing them together. If he had an entire lifetime to live with Ray by his side, maybe -- just maybe -- it would be enough. But he doubted it. 

For what seemed the first time in far too long, he couldn't wait to see what the morning would bring them. 

The End 1/10/02


End file.
